My Traveling Soldier
by gingaloid
Summary: The year is 1959 and there's a war going on overseas. 18 year old Will Schuester's been drafted into the Army. How does Emma cope with his absence, and can he keep his promise to come home to her?
1. Goodbye

**A/N: **Hi, guys! I'm back with a new fic! I got the idea the other day and I just _had_ to write it. I really hop you enjoy it. I'm already about halfway finished with Chapter Two, so that should be up sometime this weekend. A bit of background: Emma is 16 and Will is 18. Will's father walked out on him and his mother when he was four years old. Will's current caregiver is his grandmother. Emma's OCD is hinted at, but not really a huge factor yet.

ALSO VERY IMPORTANT: though the year is 1959, I am not using any real war in this fic. It's just a war, not one historically specific.

Also a big thank you to my kickass beta, Nicole!(: You rock, ma'am!

As always, Read&Review is GREATLY appreciated! -Tay

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Chapter 1: Goodbye's the Hardest Part

He walked into the café, his mind in a haze. He couldn't believe that this was happening – he was barely eighteen years old. He felt like he had his whole life ahead of him. He'd been accepted to the top schools in the country, and it was all shattered. Who knows when he'd be able to pick back up again? Would he be able to pick back up again?

His duffel was heavy; his uniform was stiff and hot. The summer heat in the café made the air stale and a sweat formed on his brow as he sat down at a table, looking around. His eyes fell on the back of one of the waitress. Her hair was copper and shiny, pulled back into a ponytail with a perfectly tied white bow on top of it. In spite of the day he was having, he smiled. She was a sweet girl. They were best friends. They'd been on a few dates, but nothing too serious, yet. He was going to ask her to be his girlfriend this weekend. He'd harbored feelings for her for _so long_. He could remember back to elementary school, sitting next to her when she'd read at recess instead of playing Cowboys and Indians with the other boys on the playground.

_Will ran out to the giant sandbox on the playground, thankful that it was recess. Today, they'd started doing long division and his young brain felt like it was going to explode. Why did they have to do things the long way? Wasn't it easier to take a shortcut? He'd just been about to jump onto a huge hill of sand when he saw a little girl sitting awkwardly on the corner of the sandbox. Her hair was red and she had two pigtails, each held up by a tiny bow. She had a book open on her lap and the idea that she was reading instead of playing confused him. He scampered over to the little girl and stood in front of her, putting his hands on his hips._

"_Why are you reading?" He asked, not bothering to introduce himself._

_The little girl looked up at him, squinting in the sun. _

"_I wanna be smart!" She was seven years old and all she wanted was to be super smart like her older brother Chris. He was in middle school and everyone thought he was cool._

_Will considered this for a moment and shook his head, his little curls on his scalp bouncing around._

"_You can get smart in school. But it's outside time. Make friends. Come play Cowboys and Indians. We need a girl to be Annie Oakley."_

"_I don't wanna make friends and be Annie Oakley. I don't wanna get dirty." She looked back at her book, deciding to ignore the boy before her as she attempted to read her book. She was wildly advanced in her reading, mainly because she liked doing so rather than playing outside._

"_You're really weird." Will said, laughing._

_The little girl looked up at him and smiled. "Okay." She looked back at her book._

_Will moved and sat down next to her. "Well you can't be lonely. My mom says that boys are supposed to take care of girls, and if I leave you here by yourself you might get hurt."_

"_That's what my mommy tells my big brother! She tells him that he can't just kiss girls and that we are special presents and we have to be taked care of." The little girl smiled, excited by the coincidence._

"_So I'll take care of you, then. I'm Will, and I'm nine and a half."_

_The little girl looked at him and smiled. "Okay. I'm Emma and I'm seven and a quarter."_

"_That's a pretty name, Emma."_

"_WILL! COME ON WE NEED YOU TO BE JESSE JAMES!" A boy ran up to him, yelling in excitement, a huge smile on his face._

"_You be Jesse James. I'm gonna play here with Emma." Will nodded._

"_But she's a girl! She's a tiny, little girl!"_

"_So?" _

_Will's friend looked at him like he was crazy and turned around, running back to his pals, "WILL SAYS I CAN BE JESSE JAMES!"_

_Will looked over at Emma and smiled at her. She shyly smiled back._

He'd been teased because she was a "little girl," being two years younger than him, but he didn't care. At that young age, he was pretty sure he knew what love was. Love was Emma Pillsbury. The girl turned around, her yellow dress swishing slightly as she set her pad and pen in the pocket of her apron, holding a few menus in her other arm.

"Right, I'll get that order in for you." She flashed the man and woman seated at the table one of her breathtaking smiles. When was the next time he'd see that smile?

Emma disappeared back behind the counter, calling the order to the cooks in the back before turning her attention to the café's house. He saw her smile as her eyes fell on him, but upon taking in his appearance, Emma's smile fell. He watched as she rushed over, her eyes slightly wide.

"Will, no."

He nodded and swallowed. The look of sadness on her face was too much. She was so sweet and innocent and cared so deeply for everyone.

"How long?"

"The bus is coming by tonight at seven."

Her teeth caught her lower lip and she nodded. It was only noon. "Okay. I'm off in an hour. Wait for me here? Please?"

Will nodded and looked at her. "I promise."

Emma gave Will one lingering look before nodding her head. She turned and went back behind the counter, getting a cup and filling it with coffee, taking it and putting it in front of Will. She then went to tend to her other customers. Her heart was racing and she could feel tears threatening to break through her tear ducts. A lump formed in her throat and made it hard for her to breathe. How could he be drafted? There'd been rumors that it could happen, but why to Will? Why now? They'd just celebrated his eighteenth. They had a date this weekend; she was going to surprise him with cookies like she knew he liked. How long had he known? Why hadn't he told her sooner? They all knew how war worked, and a lot of the men who went to fight never came back. She desperately hoped that Will would be the exception to the rule.

Will watched Emma for the rest of her shift. He could tell that she was struggling with the information she'd been presented. Her brow was furrowed and her usually cheery and perky demeanor was slightly off. When she finished her shift, she tossed her apron on the rack and walked over to Will, taking a breath.

"Since we have time, I know where we should go," Her voice was strained and Will knew she was trying to hold back tears.

"Anywhere, Em."

Twenty minutes later, they found themselves sitting on the edge of the pier at Lake Lima. The water was murky and there were bugs flying around the surface of it. Normally, this would have made Emma squeamish, but in this moment, it was perfectly silent and still aside from the hum of the bugs and their breathing. It was calm.

The pair remained silent for some time, each of them in what they thought was their own little world, but each of them was thinking of the same things. Will wondered if Emma knew he loved her. He wondered if she returned the feelings. He wondered if he'd ever be coming back to her. Emma wondered if Will loved her like she loved him. She wondered if she was reason enough for him to fight hard and come home to her. Emma wondered if he'd ever come back. A tear slid down her cheek and she closed her eyes, taking a breath through her nose.

"Emma…" Will's voice was gentle. He'd been watching her while her eyes looked anywhere but at him. His heart broke, seeing the tear and he reached over to wipe it away.

She swallowed and opened her eyes, looking at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying. You're the one who has to leave. I just – Will, I am going to miss you so much." He was so much to her. He was her best friend, and she loved him. She loved him as more than just a best friend.

Will's eyes pricked with tears at her words. He reached over and pulled her into a hug. "Emma, I am going to miss you more than anything." He kissed the top of her head. "You are my best friend, and I don't know where I would be without you."

Emma returned Will's tight embrace and rested her face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of Will. "You're mine, too." She sniffled as more tears came.

Will pulled away and looked at her. He held her face in his hands, each hand gently cupping a cheek. He took in the color of her eyes, her red cheeks, the spattering of freckles across her nose, the way her eyes were so big and beautiful. His thumbs wiped away tears as they fell onto her cheeks and he took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in his own throat.

"Emma, I know we had a date this weekend," he nodded slightly, swallowing the lump, "And I was going to wait until then, but I guess I can't now." He paused, gathering his thoughts. He could feel his eyes threatening with tears again as hers continued flowing, but she stared at him, unblinking as if memorizing him just as he was memorizing her. "Emma, I want you to be my girlfriend. I know I have awful timing and I'm leaving tonight, but I can't leave without knowing what I'm fighting to come home to. You know I don't have anyone else besides you and my Grandmother. So, please, Emma. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Her tears came faster and thicker at his words, but she nodded. "Y-yes." That was all the response she could muster for fear of breaking down. Will's heart swelled at her words; he knew what he was fighting for now. It wasn't just some war that was started by other people. It was now, in his mind, a fight to come home to Emma. He leaned in to kiss her lips and she returned the action gently. Her heart was both swelling and breaking at the same time. It was all too much.

When they broke away, Will lay back on the pier and Emma laid against him, her head resting on his shoulder. They remained silent; what could they say? Anything they said or did would just make this harder on them. It was bad enough being torn apart as best friends, but now it was more difficult, because it meant their harbored feelings were out in the open. The pair laid there for hours in silence, Will randomly turning his head to kiss Emma. He had to kiss her as often as he could before he left, get all of the kisses that she deserved in before it was too late.

As the sun began to set, Will let out a sigh and spoke the words they'd been dreading since they arrived at the pier. "Emma, I have to go." He spoke the words gently and regretfully, stroking her hair. She just nodded and stood, extending her hand to him, her mind racing frantically to figure out what to say to him before he left.

He stood and held her face again, looking her in the eyes. "Emma, please stay safe and take care of yourself. You have two years left of high school. Keep doing what you're doing, okay? I want to come home to your graduation ceremony." He let out a small laugh and a smile. "I will write to you every day that I can." He leaned forward and kissed her again, lips lingering longer than necessary. She returned the kiss, swallowing when he pulled away. New tears were on her cheeks and she took a deep breath, willing herself to listen to him. "I promise, I will."

Her arms wrapped around him tightly and she buried her face in his neck. Will's arms wrapped around her waist and he held her close, memorizing the feel of her tiny frame against him and in his arms. Finally, he broke away and held her at arm's length.

"I have to go."

With that, he bent over and picked up his duffel, slinging it over his shoulder. He began to walk away and Emma watched him, her world turning slightly colder as her best friend – boyfriend – got further from her. Was your heart supposed to break like this at only sixteen? When he was almost to the road, Emma took a few steps forward.

"Will?"

He turned and looked at her and she bit her lip, finally deciding on what she'd say to him.

"Yeah?"

"I…" She hesitated. "I love you."

He cracked a smile. "I love you, too, Emma." They'd created the habit of saying so to each other after his mother died back when he was fifteen.

_Emma walked up the front porch stairs and knocked on the door gently. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as she waited for it to be answered. After a few seconds, the door flew open and Will was standing on the other side of the threshold, tears in his eyes._

"_Hi."_

"_Will, I'm really sorry to hear about your mom."_

_Emma hadn't heard from Will in the past few days and it had worried her. It wasn't until earlier this morning that she heard his mother died in a car accident. When Will was four, his Dad had walked out on them, and ever since then, his mother had hit the bottle hard. She wasn't generally one to drive while drunk, but for whatever reason, that day she'd thought it was alright. Emma's dad told her that in the paper it said she'd parked in the middle of an intersection when a truck rammed into her car. She felt awful and made her way to Will's as soon as she possibly could._

_Will opened his arms towards Emma and she immediately stepped through the doorway, walking into his arms and hugging him gently. Ever since that first day on the playground, they'd become the closest, best friends that there ever had been. Sure, she was younger, but they got along perfectly well; they were always there for each other._

_Emma heard Will's muffled sobs and she hugged her best friend close. _

"_It's okay, Will."_

_No, it wasn't. She knew it wasn't, but she was thirteen – what did she know of anything that could make him feel better? She just hated that he was crying._

"_I don't remember if I told her I love her, Emma." Will felt like a baby crying into the shoulder of a girl about whether or not his mother knew of his love for her. "We argued before I went to school…and I…I don't remember."_

_Emma let out a low sigh and hugged him tighter. "Will, Moms and Dads always know you love them. Remember? You told me that after everything that happened with my problems. They always know."_

"_But what if she didn't?"_

"_I promise she did."_

_Will nodded and hugged her tighter, gripping onto the one constant remaining in his life. She was only thirteen, but she always seemed so much older. The way she carried herself and the way she talked was far beyond her years._

_After a few minutes, Emma swallowed and pulled back slightly. "I have to go back home, but I wanted to check on you. Dad says home before the streetlights. But I'll come see you tomorrow for our usual Saturday park visit if you want?" She knew it was possible that he wouldn't want to, but she had to offer in case he wanted a break from the sadness._

"_Okay. I'll see you." He released his grip around her waist and watched her walk towards the door._

"_Emma?"_

_She turned around, her hand on the doorknob, "Yeah?"_

"_I love you."_

_Emma's eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. "Huh?"_

"_I didn't tell my mom and now I don't know if she knows. I need to make sure people know when I love and care about them. So. I love you."_

_Emma smiled and turned the doorknob, opening the door. "I love you, too."_

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I _love _you."

Her lower lip quivered and a sob broke through her chest. Tears welled in Will's eyes and he swallowed, unable to do anything but nod. He turned on his heel and walked to the road, taking a right turn and heading towards the bus stop a few blocks away.

Emma fell to her knees on the edge of the pier and began to sob.


	2. Promises, Promises

**A/N: **And I bring you chapter two. The response to this story so far has been awesome and I plan on continuing this, as Chapter 3 is already formulating in my brain. I've also got the ending all planned, as well, so I need to now fill in the middle. I hope you enjoy and again, Read&Review is _greatly_ appreciated! It motivates me to write more for you guys! Thank you, again, Nicole, for reading through and being my beta (:

Disclaimer: I do not own Will, Emma, Rose or Rusty. That's all RIB's. However, I _did_ create Clarissa Schuester.

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Chapter 2: Promises, Promises

_July 7, 1959_

_Emma,_

_I know it's been a month since I left. I told you I'd write, but I couldn't. Your confession at the pier just before I left caught me by surprise. I didn't know what to say or how to respond to that. Do you know that I love you, too? I __love__ you, too. I'm sorry I didn't say it back, but I couldn't. You were so heartbroken. I could see it in your face, and I couldn't break you any further than I already did. I know it was an awful thing of me to do, asking you to be my girl the day I'm leaving for war. It was a jerk move, and I hope that I didn't make you feel forced to accept. You could have said no if you wanted to – you could still back out now. If you choose. I wouldn't be surprised. I'm betting there are boys all over you in your summer clothes. But if you want to still be mine, I'd like it._

_Call me crazy, but I think I would pretend you're mine whether you choose to back out or not. You've been the one constant in my life since we were seven and nine, Em. You've been there for me when my mother wasn't, and you've done so much for me, even though you're so much younger. Do you know that you saved me from myself after my mom died? You did. You do. You're my reason to come back home to Ohio. I promise I will, Emma. I've been keeping up with the news. I know what's going on and I know they're saying the chances of us boys coming back home are slim, but I'm going to prove them wrong. I'm going to come back to you – I still owe you a date._

_Thank you for spending my last day in Lima with me. I couldn't stay home with my Grandmother and prolong her anxiety and sadness. She'd been fussing over me since I got the letter about being drafted. My last day needed to be with you. I had to suck it up and tell you that I was leaving. I couldn't do it sooner, Em, and I'm sorry that I sprung it on you. But I couldn't break your heart sooner than it needed to be broken. You'd be worrying for the rest of the time I had home, and I know you'd've treated me differently. Like I was a wounded puppy instead of your best friend. Now your boyfriend. _

_Did you do anything for Independence Day? I bet you looked so beautiful by the glow of sparklers, your face coloured different shades in the night sky as you looked up at fireworks. Just like you were last year, and the year before. We didn't do much here at boot camp. They did a small barbeque, but nothing major. It's not like you'd be here with me. I'm getting sort of nervous. We ship out in just under three weeks now. I heard a few of the officers saying it was regretful that they were all training us to walk straight to our death. It scares me, if I can be honest with you. I don't like that our superiors are already doubting us, but they don't know what we have to return home to. What __I__ have to return home to. You. Your beautiful face._

_Do you remember that time when you'd just started high school and I met you outside the building on your third day, and you said you didn't want to go in because you didn't look like all the other girls? You said you dressed funnier because you were more proper, and I told you that you looked beautiful and to stop your whining. I realized today that every day, you still find something to nitpick about yourself and I always have to tell you you're beautiful. Stop whining. I'm not there to say it, but every time you start nitpicking, just know I'm over here going, "Stop nitpicking, Emma. You're beautiful. Stop whining."_

_God, I love you. You're beautiful._

_Your Traveling Soldier,_

_Will_

_P.S. Tell Grandma Clarissa hi for me, please. And I love her._

Emma stared down at the paper. It was limp from having been folded and refolded dozens upon dozens of times. The letter had arrived three weeks ago, and she'd hastily responded, putting a letter in the mail the very same day. How often was their mail being delivered to them? She hoped it didn't get lost.

A tear fell down her cheek as she swung on the porch swing, her fingers running over the paper. A weight next to her brought her back to Earth and she looked to her left to find her older brother, Christopher, sitting next to her. Chris was a ginger, just like she was, but in the summer months, his hair looked more blonde than anything. He had brilliant blue eyes and a genuine smile that he reserved specially for his baby sister. He'd graduated from college a few weeks back and decided to move back home to Lima while he tried to get his footing in the career world. He'd arrived home hours ago, but Emma hadn't been in a very cheerful mood.

"Hey, Em. I brought you something."

Chris held out a box and Emma gave him a small smile, untying it and opening it. She pulled out a necklace with a crystal heart on the end.

"Saw it and thought of you."

Emma looked over at him again and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Chris. I love it." She unclasped the necklace and put it on, fiddling with it for a moment before sitting back on the porch swing. Chris fell silent and sat with his sister for a bit before eyeing the piece of paper in her hand.

"You want to tell me what's going on, Emma?"

"I'm sure Mom and Dad have filled you in."

"I don't want to hear it from Mom and Dad, Em. I wanna hear it from you."

Christopher looked at his sister sadly. She was usually so spirited around him; they were as close as siblings could get. He knew she admired him and she knew he cared about her more than anything. It bothered him that she was being so quiet and so distant. Their parents had filled him in, but not very much. They said it was Emma's place to tell what was happening. His lips twitched into a small smile as her amber eyes finally met his.

"Will got drafted. He left about a month and a half ago, and I miss him terribly. He's written me once – I got it a week ago." Her eyes fell to the paper caught between her fingers and her thumbs. She watched as her thumbs ran over the paper like little windshield wipers, wiping away the wrinkles.

Christopher wrapped his arm around his baby sister and pulled her close to him, kissing the side of her head. "I'm sorry, Emmy. I know you two were close. Attached at the hip since you were seven."

Emma nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. "He asked me to be his girlfriend."

"It's about damn time! That boy was dragging his feet. What finally pushed him to do it?"

Emma bit her lip and took a breath, feeling tears coming to her eyes. They always came when she thought of him leaving that day.

"Leaving. The weekend after he left, we were supposed to have a date and he was going to ask me then, but he – he had to the day he left instead."

Her eyes closed, trapping the tears behind her lids, her teeth catching her lower lip momentarily. She felt her brother's breath catch and he nodded, hugging her tighter. "I'm sorry it wasn't sooner, kid. I'm surprised it took this long, honestly. Will worshipped the ground you walked on, even back when you two first met. You could see it in his face."

_Fourteen year old Christopher Pillsbury was sitting at the table in the kitchen doing his algebra homework. He had a bowl of grapes in front of him and he was absentmindedly popping them into his mouth as he worked out the Pythagorean Theorem problems on his worksheet. He sighed after a few problems and rubbed his eyes, getting up to get a soda. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a coke, cracking open the bottle and slamming the door shut. Just as he did, his little sister, Emma walked in, followed by a little boy._

"_Chris!"_

_She ran over and gave her brother a hug, smiling up at him and then over to Will. Chris laughed and hugged her back. He loved his sister more than anything._

"_See! I told you he was big and super cool!"_

_Christopher laughed and shook his head._

"_You little weirdo." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Who's your friend, Emmy?"_

"_His name's Will. He takes care of me." She shrugged slightly and looked down at her dress, smoothing out the skirt of it._

_Christopher looked at Will and his face twisted into a grin. He pursed his curved lips to prevent a laugh from escaping. The young boy looked to be just older than Emma. His head was covered in curls and he was staring at his little sister with the biggest grin ever. It was clear this kid had a crush on his baby sister._

"_Takes care of you?"_

"_Yeah, at school. He reads with me, and takes care of me like Mommy tells you to."_

_Will's eyes flitted from Emma to Chris and he nodded. "Yep. She's tiny. Gotta make sure she doesn't get hurt."_

_Chris laughed once and nodded. "Alright. Well thanks for that. That better mean that you won't hurt her." He was kidding. Partly. Sure, Emma was only seven, but he was a whopping fourteen years old. In his mind, he'd been around long enough to know that you protect sisters from boys. It was in all the movies they watched. The brother told the boy to be nice and not hurt her. Chris knew this sort of thing._

"_I won't hurt her. If I do, I'll never be Jesse James again." Will nodded decidedly and his eyes returned their focus to Emma, a smile immediately returning to his face._

Emma sniffled and shook her head, "Don't. Chris. It doesn't help to hear that, it just makes it hurt more that he's gone and we couldn't actually be together but for a few hours."

Chris nodded. He remained quiet and started swinging gently, holding his sister close to him. He didn't know what he could say or do to make her feel better. It was lucky that he didn't get called to service. She still had him, but something told him that fact wouldn't comfort her any. It might just make her angry.

"What did Mom and Dad say about it?" It was Emma who broke the silence.

"They said you're too young to be going through this and it's because you were too free-spirited around Will. But they wouldn't say much more. They said it was your story to tell."

Emma sighed quietly. "I am too young. But so is Will. Christopher, I watch the news and I read the papers. This has been going on for a year already, and they keep saying that people aren't coming back. At least not as many as there used to be. What if he doesn't come back, Chris? He's my _best friend_. He's my boyfriend, too, I guess, but he's my _best friend_. I can't live without my best friend and – and…" She took a deep breath and looked at him, her brow crinkled in fear.

"Emma, stop." His voice was stern and he held his sister's face in his hands. "What does that letter say?" If he knew Will at all, it was something pertaining to coming home.

"It, uhm, it says he'll come back. He'll come back to me, even if they say he won't come home, he'll prove them wrong."

"Has Will ever broken a promise to you?"

Emma shook her head, her eyes searching Christopher's face. She wasn't grasping what he was saying; that she shouldn't worry because Will had promised.

"Then he will be home. My bet is he'll be gone one year – two at the most with the way they say the war is going – and then he'll be back in Lima, running up to the front door on Saturday mornings to go on your usual park thing you two do." He kissed his sister's forehead. "Don't worry."

Emma nodded and gave her brother a small smile, moving to rest her head on his shoulder, her eyes gazing out towards the street.

"Thanks for the necklace, Christopher. I really like it."

"Only the best for you, Em. I love you. Even if it's not cool to tell your sister."

Emma let out a laugh. "I love you, too."

Silence fell upon the brother and sister once more as the sun began to set on Lima, Ohio. They stayed on the porch long after the sun was set and the crickets came out, chirping back and forth, contributing to the evening symphony of bug noises. Emma just needed time to think. Christopher didn't want to leave his sister alone. Their time together was interrupted by the front door creaking open.

"Emma, Chris. It's dark, kids. Come inside." Rose Pillsbury's head poked out of the door, staring at her children in the dark. "I made dessert for you guys. It's Emma's favourite."

Emma nodded and stood, Chris standing after her and grabbing the empty wrapping from her necklace. They followed their mother inside and to the kitchen where their father was reading the paper.

"You kids have a good time out there?" Rusty Pillsbury asked, setting the paper down and removing his glasses.

"Yeah. I'm glad Christopher's home." Emma smiled genuinely at her brother and sat next to her father.

Rose brought over a plate of strawberry shortcake for each of them before sitting across from Rusty. They all started to eat their dessert in silence until Rose spoke up.

"I ran into Clarissa Schuester at the market today."

"Oh? How is she?" Emma asked, raising her eyebrows and taking another bite. Clarissa was Will's grandmother. She'd moved to Lima to take care of him after his mother died and she took wonderful care of Will. Clarissa also loved Emma and often had her join them for dinner.

"She's good. She's just as worried as you are about Will. She wants you to go over tomorrow if you'd like. She says just because Will's not there doesn't mean everything should change and she'd love to have you over for dinner." Rose smiled and took a tiny bite of a strawberry.

Emma nodded. "Okay. I'll phone her tomorrow morning and let her know I'll be there."

Soon enough, everyone finished their dessert and Emma dismissed herself to her room. She placed her letter from Will on her desk, then changed into her pajamas and brushed her hair and teeth before crawling into bed. She closed her eyes tight and curled up under her blankets, suddenly very tired.

XXX

Emma knocked gently on the front door of Will's house, taking a small step back as she waited for it to be opened. She brought a plate of home-baked chocolate chip cookies she'd made earlier that day. After a few seconds, the door opened to reveal a sweet woman in her early sixties. A smile was on her slightly wrinkled face and she stepped out of the way to let Emma in.

"Emma, dear. It's good to see you!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Schuester. It's good to see you, too. I made these for you this morning; had a bit of free time." Emma smiled and held the plate of cookies out to Clarissa.

"Now, if I have to tell you one more time not to call me Mrs. Schuester, Emma Pillsbury…I've known you far too long for that formality."

Emma laughed. "Sorry, _Grandma_."

Clarissa had always wanted a granddaughter, but she only had the one grandson. She still loved Will with all of her heart and spoiled him rotten, but there was always the desire to have a granddaughter running around as well. She remembered when Will brought Emma home during one of Clarissa's visits when they were smaller. Clarissa was enamored by the little girl. She was so tiny and polite; exactly how she'd imagined a granddaughter would be.

_Clarissa was sitting in the living room with her daughter-in-law, Melissa, waiting for Will to get home from school. She'd made a surprise visit to see her daughter and her son for the day and couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on his face. When the door opened and revealed Will, she was surprised to see a tiny ginger girl trailing in behind him. She had huge doe-eyes that made her look so innocent and sweet. The two were laughing and it took a moment for Will to register that there was a surprise visitor. He did a double take and gasped, running over._

"_GRANDMA!"_

_He ran to her and hugged her tightly and Clarissa kissed his cheek sweetly. "There's my man! I've been waiting for you all afternoon!"_

"_I missed you!"_

_Clarissa smiled and nodded. "I missed you, too, William." She hugged him again and her eyes glanced over at the young girl standing awkwardly in the doorway. Her hands were clasped before her and she was chewing on her lip._

"_And who might this be?" Clarissa asked, gesturing towards Emma._

"_That's Emma. She's my best friend." Will smiled over at Emma and Clarissa raised her eyebrows at her eleven year old grandson before returning her gaze to Emma._

"_Well, Emma, come on over here, sweetheart. I'm Will's Grandma Clarissa. It's nice to meet you, honey."_

_Emma walked over nervously and gave her a shy smile. "It's nice to meet you, Ma'am."_

"_Aren't you the cutest? But you don't have to call me ma'am, dear. Call me Clarissa."_

_Emma bit her lip and shook her head gently. "I can't, ma'am. My Momma always says that I am supposed to address my elders as sir or ma'am, unless they're relatives."_

"_Well how about Grandma, then? I always wanted a granddaughter and any best friend of my little man here is a best friend of mine." She smiled warmly at Emma and her grandson and Emma nodded, a smile cracking on her delicate face._

The pair moved to the dining room where Clarissa had set out a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs with a side salad and garlic bread. They took their seats, said grace and began eating.

"Oh, this is so good." Emma said, a napkin held over her half-full mouth. Clarissa was an amazing cook.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm sure your cookies are just as delicious. How've you been?"

Emma shrugged slightly, swallowing her mouthful and taking a sip of her water. "I've been alright. Christopher's back from university and trying to get a job. It's summer so there's not much to do without Will around." She sighed. "My Saturdays are so dull now. How about you?"

Clarissa nodded.

"Well I've been alright. It's quiet around here without William singing through the house or you two doing your thing most days, but I'm alright. Sometimes the silence is nice." She paused. "I know I'm no Will, but if you want company, you are always welcome over here, Emma. I love having you around and I'm sure it would quell our loneliness."

Will was all Clarissa had. Her husband died years ago from a heart attack. Her daughter-in-law passed on and her son disappeared years ago when Will was only four. She considered Emma family by this point and would love her companionship.

"If you're sure I wouldn't be a bother…"

"I'm sure. My grandson told me before he left that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. Now I'm assuming this has happened, and if so, he would find a way here to kill me if I didn't take care of you like he's been doing for the past nine years." Clarissa's eyes glistened as she smiled, taking a long drink of water.

"You're right on all accounts. Tomorrow, uhm, well, tomorrow' s Saturday. Usually, Will and I would go to the park and walk around, then lie under a tree and read books. I don't know if you'd be interested, but –"

Clarissa cut off Emma with the wave of her hand. "But nothing. It sounds wonderful, Emma. I'd love to."

Emma smiled and finished up eating her dinner, as did Clarissa. They both stood and started doing the dishes together. Just as they were finishing up and drying the dishes, Emma remembered the post-script in Will's letter and she looked over at Clarissa, drying off one of their glasses.

"I got a letter from Will about a week back."

"Oh? How is he?"

"He's good. He misses us. He, uhm, he asked me to tell you he misses you, and he loves you." Emma nodded, putting the glass away.

Clarissa smiled and nodded, hanging the dish towel she was using to dry. "That's my little man. Always leaving some love for his Grandma. When you write him next, tell him I return the feelings. The house is lonely without him around here."

"I promise I will." She glanced at the clock hanging above the stove and sighed. "I should probably get home, but thank you so much for dinner. It was wonderful to see you."

Emma took a step forward and Clarissa opened her arms, embracing Emma gently. Emma returned the gesture.

"It was wonderful seeing you, too, sweetpea. I'll see you tomorrow at noon?"

"Sounds perfect."

They walked to the door and Emma stepped outside, turning back and smiling. "Thank you, again. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, dear." Clarissa closed the door and sighed before going upstairs to her room. She was so glad Emma came by to see her and was looking forward to seeing her the following day.

Emma walked down the steps and headed to the street, walking down the middle of it towards her house a few blocks away. Her meeting with Will's grandmother was lovely and she was excited to see her again the next day.

Upon arrival home, Emma stepped through the unlocked front door and toed off her shoes on the mat just inside. She closed and locked the door behind her and went upstairs to her room, planning on taking a shower. As she walked passed her parents' door, she heard whispering and she stopped just after it, craning to hear what was being said behind the cracked door.

"Rusty, I just don't like this. She's going to get her heart broken. Coming out of left field with promises of love – it's never been mentioned before!" That was her mother, always being pessimistic.

"Rose, she's fine. She's upset, yes, but you would be, too, if your boyfriend was going through this. The news that they care so deeply for each other is nothing new, Rose. This has been going on since the day she brought that young man home when they were in elementary school and you are full well aware of this." Emma nodded in agreement with her father.

"She's not fine! You read that letter; he's promising her that he's going to return, and you and I both know the chances of that are slim. That boy is going to die, and it's going to kill our daughter in the process!"

Silence fell upon the pair in the room and Emma chewed on her lip, her breath held in her chest as she strained to hear more. After a few minutes, her father spoke again.

"You should not be wishing death on Will. He is a good kid and he's always taken care of Emma. He is giving her hope and he is giving himself hope. They've seen the news; they both know full well what could happen."

"She's going to get hurt."

"Rose, she's already hurt. We just need to try and keep her heart together until Will can get back here and do it himself. He promised her."

"Promises mean nothing in war, Rusty."

"They do when you have something worth fighting for."

With that, their bedroom light flicked off and Emma could hear them settling into bed for the night. She tip-toed to her room and closed the door behind herself, walking over and sitting on her bed without bothering to turn on her light. Her mother infuriated her sometimes. Why couldn't she look at things from a positive perspective? Why couldn't she just hope and pray that everything would go well? He'll come back, she thought to herself.

"He'll come back." She spoke into the darkness determinedly, "He promised."


	3. Place Your Bet on Chance and Apathy

**A/N: And I bring you Chapter Three. I am _so sorry_ that it's taken me so long to update. I've had finals and trying to write was just not happening. Studying had to be a priority. That being said, I have one last exam this upcoming week, but I hope to get Chapter 4 up before then. If not, just know the moment I finish my exam, Chapter 4 will be completed and uploaded. As always, R&R is so greatly appreciated and it motivates me to keep going - your guys's reviews have been so great so far, so thank you!(: A big thank you to Nicole again for reading through and checking my grammar ;)**

**Also, please pay attention to the dates of the letters. While the first two were only about a week apart, they're going to start being anywhere from three months to six months apart on Will's part. Also, chapter titles from here on out are going to be lines from songs. This one, "Place Your Bet on Chance and Apathy" comes from Grizzly Bear's 'Slow Life.' Thank you again! -Tayma**

* * *

Place Your Bet on Chance and Apathy

_July 15, 1959_

_Will,_

_It's so good to hear from you. It's hardly been a month and I'm already bored out of my mind without you here. I miss you so much. Each Saturday that rolls around just upsets me, but Christopher's gone on a few trips to the park with me since you aren't here to do so. It's not the same, though._

_Don't worry about taking your time in writing back. I suppose confessing that I love you was just as awful of me as you waiting until your departure to ask me to be with you. That's what makes you and I us, though. When have we ever done anything by the rules? Remember when we used to go on outings and we'd always do that opposite of what was instructed of us? That is just how you and I work, so I wouldn't have it any other way. Of course I am not going to back out on you and of course I want to be yours still. There aren't any boys all over me, and even if there were, I'd tell them to scram because I already have a brilliant boyfriend who's doing a brilliant and brave thing._

_Will, I know this is probably very overly emotional of me to say, but I'll always be yours. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that I've been yours since the day you told me I was weird and proceeded to sit with me at recess. Don't think that you've done nothing for me; you've helped me so much through everything. I think you're the reason I am able to function normally through my OCD and everything. You keep me strong and you always tell me that there's nothing that can stop me. You tell me I'm Wonder Woman, but you're Superman, and I don't think you realize how much I look up to you. I'm so blessed to know you, and I am going to be praying for you every second you're away._

_I want you to know that I'm not mad at you for waiting to tell me about leaving like you did. I completely understand. I would have been a wreck every day that you were still here, always fussing over you and worrying. Because you're my best friend, but I felt like you were so much more than that to me._

_Independence Day wasn't much this year. I wasn't exactly in the celebratory mood and the parents had to work, so Christopher just cooked my favourite pasta dish and we spent the evening playing Scrabble. It's good that they did something for you, though. _  
_Especially with what you're about to do._

_I know you've already promised me so much, Will, and I can't believe I am going to ask you for another favor, but I have to. I need you to promise me that you'll ignore them. Ignore them saying you may not come home, ignore them doubting you. Focus on fighting for our country and focus on coming back home. That's it. Nothing else; and know that if or when I cross your mind, you are crossing mine at the same time._

_You make me smile, you know that? Fine. I'll stop the nitpicking and whining. Thank you for the compliment, Will. Even so far away you're so sweet. I should probably let you go now and stop wasting your time, but I just wanted to say that I sent you a picture of me. Daddy says that sometimes it helps give extra motivation. He's rooting for you guys and praying for you. I promise to tell Grandma you say hello and you miss her. I love you, _  
_Will Schuester._

_Always yours,_

_Emma_

Will looked at the letter in his hand for a moment, his eyes flitting to the other hand. In it was a picture of Emma that she'd enclosed. The picture was of her on his birthday and he insisted that she take a picture on her own; she looked so beautiful. Her hair was let down and shoulder-length in soft waves; her dress was blowing off to the side slightly and she held a bunch of flowers in her hand as she laughed at the camera. Even in picture form, her eyes were sparkling like the sun. She was happy and warm and comforting, smiling up at him from the photo. His thumb ran over her face gently and he let out a sigh.

He was sitting on the plane headed overseas as he read through the letter for the umpteenth time. It had arrived in the mail two weeks ago and he couldn't stop reading it.  
The letter reminded him of home, which he already missed so much, and each time he read it, he heard Emma's voice loud in his head as if she were speaking right in front of him.

"That your girl?"

Will looked up from the picture, his eyes meeting those of Carl Howell. The guy was about two years older than Will, but he seemed so much older by the way he held himself. Everything about him was dark; his hair, skin, and eyes were each their own shade of brown. Carl seemed like a nice enough guy and in their time together in California, he and Will had become pals for the most part. Their superiors told them they should buddy up so they had someone with them at all times in the field to watch their back, and he and Will had decided to buddy up, having gotten on for the most part thus far.

"Yeah. Her name's Emma."

"She's beautiful."

"She is. Not just on the outside, either. She's the sweetest person I've ever met."  
Carl nodded. He'd seen the girl around town, having come from Lima as well. He was a few years older than her and he knew how sweet she was. She worked at the café for the past year or so and she was always so smiley and very nice to everyone; even the jerks from school who teased her.

_The first time Carl Howell had seen Emma Pillsbury, he was drawn to her. She was four years younger than him, but that didn't stop him from thinking she was the most beautiful girl he'd seen in his life. There was this innocence about her that just made her whole demeanor so sweet. You could tell just by looking at her that she was one of those girls who had no idea that she was beautiful, and it made her all the more attractive._

_He'd stepped into the familiar café for a cup of coffee and a scone while working on an assignment for one of his university classes. It was winter break and he hadn't been home for a few weeks. It was nice to get back to some normalcy and the familiarity inside of the café was just what he needed to get in the groove for his assignment._

_Once he was seated at a table, he pulled out his books and placed them on the table, waiting for a waitress to come over. He was surprised when a familiar-looking ginger girl walked over to him, hair tied in a bow and dressed in a yellow dress. She pulled out a pad of paper and smiled at him sweetly._

_"Hi, I'm Emma and I'll be taking care of you today. What can I get for you?" Her voice had an adorable lilt in it and the hint of an accent. Precious. That was the best word to describe her._

_"Uh, yeah. I'll have a, uh, coffee and a scone."_

_Emma scribbled down his order before turning back towards the counter, then back at him. "Ooh, sir, I am so sorry, but we're out of scones today. Ma's usually up before dawn making them, but she's been out all week. Can I get you anything else instead? _  
_We've got great pie, if I may brag. I made it myself when I learned she'd be out for a bit."_

_Wow, she was adorable._

_"Sure, that sounds good." He flashed her a toothy grin and Emma smiled, correcting his order. "Wonderful. I'll bring that right out to you."_

_With that, she turned and went back behind the counter, cutting him a slice of pie and pouring him a steaming cup of coffee. As she was doing so, a group of rowdy boys strolled into the place, pointing at Emma slightly and laughing. There was a young woman among them, joining in on their antics, leading a few of what seemed to be funny one-liners._

_Emma glanced towards the group and sighed once before smiling. "Be with you all in just a moment."_

_"Take your time, Twitchy Bitch."_

_The smile never faltered from her face as she walked over to Carl with his order, then went to take the order of the group. He could see from where he sat that they were harassing her slightly, throwing straw wrappers at her and ripped up bits of napkin. Not once did she lose her cool. She repeated their order back and filled it quickly as if nothing had happened. Once the order was filled, she'd returned to Carl with the pot of coffee in her hand._

_"Can I get you some more coffee, sir?"_

_"Sure, thanks," he pushed the cup towards her as she started to pour and looked over at the group. They were still making gestures towards her and about her. "Doesn't that get annoying or hurtful?"_

_Emma glanced towards the kids and shrugged slightly, turning to look at Carl. "Sort of. But then I realize it's them that I have to pity. They call me twitchy bitch and throw things at me, but I'm not the one who needs to hurt others in order to make myself feel better. I'm not hurt. I'm sorry for them." She gave him a shy smile and gestured towards his pie and coffee. "Oh, and it's on the house."_

_Wow. She looked at things so differently than he did. If it were him in her position, he would have taken those guys to a car race and shown them whose boss. This girl, she was so sweet and kind. He'd never seen or met anyone like this before. His eyebrows raised and he shook his head._

_"No, come on. I have to pay for it."_

_Emma laughed and shook her head. "You don't have to. You're a student and you're not throwing straws at me in a fit of giggles." She smiled her shy smile once more and turned to go back before Carl called to her._

_"Hey, Emma, was it?"_

_She stopped and looked at him, "Yeah."_

_"This pie is pretty amazing. Thanks."_

_"Anytime."_

Carl nodded. "Yeah, I'd seen her around town quite a bit. She's always nice."

Will and Carl fell silent for a few moments after that. Carl sat staring out of the window and into the atmosphere while Will gently folded his letter, placing it into his pocket. He placed the picture of Emma in the pocket above his heart before leaning back against the seat, looking over at the man next to him.

"You got a girl back in Ohio?"

Carl looked over at him and shook his head, sighing. "Nah. Last girl I was with was two years ago. Left me for a dentist." He scoffed slightly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"I've got nothing to go back home to. If I die in this damn war, then I die, but at least I died nobly, right?" He looked over at Will.

Will nodded, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. "Well, yeah, but you'll make it back, Carl. We both will."

"More likely you."

"What makes you say that?"

Carl reached over and poked Will's chest where the picture now rested. "You've got something special there waiting for you. You'd be a fool to let her get away because of something silly like death."

"Yeah," Will nodded, swallowing, "I promised her, you know. That I'd go back for her."

"And you will."

They stared at each other for a moment and Carl removed his finger from Will's chest.

They laid back for a moment before the pilot came over the speakers to inform everyone that they would be landing in about half an hour. Everyone on the plane fell silent after that, each person praying for something different. Bravery, courage, the ability to refrain from crying the moment they landed; everyone praying for such different things, but they were all the same when it came down to it. They were all praying for strength. Half an hour later, they landed and they were told it was safe to leave the plane. Everyone stood and shouldered their bags, already in uniform and ready to head straight out to the field. Will and Carl looked at each other once they were off the plane and took a breath.

Simultaneously, they turned with the others in their troop and headed inside for instructions and location assignments. This was it.

"You ready?" Carl asked, tightening his pack straps.

"Let's do this." Will said, nodding.

Later that night, Will and Carl sat camped out in the middle of the wilderness. Their faces were covered in camouflaged paint and they leaned against a tree, each of them on either side with their back against the trunk. After landing, no time was wasted in getting their assignments and being thrown head first into the fire. They'd moved speedily during the day, but by nightfall, it was too dark to see much and it was too quiet to move safely.

They'd yet to run into the enemy and both men were thankful. The idea of having to kill a man scared each of them out of their wits, but if it came down to that – if it came down to themselves or the opposition – each knew that they'd be able to pull the trigger. Will hated thinking that he was doing it in the name of loving Emma, but if he didn't have a cause behind fighting someone else's war, he'd be killing in cold blood. The very idea of being labeled a killer frightened him. So he knew that he would do it for love. Carl knew that he'd do it, but he had no other reason than to do it for the glory of knowing that he would at least die trying.

That was the difference between the two men. They both got on so well, but each viewed their outcome differently. Will was sure he was going home; he felt it in every fiber of his being. He'd go home, kiss Emma, never let her go, marry her, have kids with her, the whole shebang. He was positive of his future. Carl, however, was sure that he was going to die. He'd come to peace with the fact that the day he left Ohio was the last day he'd see his mom, his brothers and sisters, even his dog. He had come to terms with it and accepted it. It was just a matter of dying nobly, rather than running noisily through the forest screaming 'SHOOT ME I AM GONNA DIE ANYWAYS!' Plus, he had to make sure Will got far enough through this thing anyways; he had a girlfriend to go home to. A beautiful one at that.

After what was probably hours of silence, Carl cleared his throat. "So I guess we should sleep in shifts? Other man keeps watch?"

Will nodded. "Sounds good. I'll take first shift and wake you when I get too tired."

"Alright, man."

Whether Carl actually fell asleep, Will didn't know. He looked up at the few stars through the dark canopy of trees and sighed. Emma crossed through his mind and he smiled, remembering what she said in her letter. He'd just crossed her mind as well.

Will strained his ears, listening intently through the animal ambiance surrounding him, Emma still burning brightly in his mind.


	4. I've Tried My Best Alone

**A/N: **Hello, hello! And I bring to you chapter 4! (: Sorry that the title is kinda long! So I love that there is so much interest in this story and I wanted to give a little bit of an update for you all on how the story is progressing. It's looking like this story is going to end up being about fifteen chapters long - hopefully you all will stay interested that long! I've just finished my finals which means that I will have a _ton_ of time to work on this story. Chapter 5 should be up within the next week. All that being said please R&R! I love your guys's comments!(:_  
_

Also - shout out to **myloxylotos**: Thank you so much for the luck on my exam! It paid off big time!

_This chapter title comes from Brooke Waggoner's "Wonder-Dummied."_

* * *

__Chapter 4: I've Tried My Best Alone, But It Got Me Nowhere and I Can't Do It On My Own

_October27, 1959_

_Beautiful Em,_

_Promising you that I'll ignore everyone who says that I am not going to make it is not a difficult promise to make. I promised I'd come home to you – promising to ignore the naysayers and focusing on returning to Ohio goes hand in hand. So, yes. I promise you with everything that I can promise that I'll be back to you and I'll ignore them. Don't worry about me. I've got this all covered._

_Reading a letter written from you is not a waste of time, Emma. It's a beautiful way to pass the time. I'm glad that you wrote back; that Grandma Clarissa is writing, too. I miss the both of you far more than I would like to admit. I love the picture that you chose to send me. It's my favourite of you, Em. You're so beautiful all the time, but I feel like that one image completely captured you and who you completely are every day. It's perfect; I'm proud to carry it with me every day._

_I guess since I am at war, that means I am supposed to be a tough soldier. That supposed status doesn't stop me from pulling out the picture you sent me every moment that I am able to – especially after close calls. We've had a few of those, lately. They seem to be more frequent. Either we're being careless or the people we're fighting against are far cleverer than we're giving them credit for. I think it's more to do with us being careless, though. It's so hard to remember everything when your main focus is just to get out of here as fast and efficiently as possible._

_I won't disclose details, because either they will bore you or frighten you. Actually, I know for a fact that they will frighten and worry you. So don't ask me to tell you more than I am willing to say. I know you and if you get every single detail, you're going to worry yourself sick, and that is the last thing that anybody needs._

_I'm glad to hear about Chris taking care of you on Independence Day. I love that he takes care of you like that; I know things can be difficult with your parents sometimes for the both of you. Just stick with Chris; you know you're safe with your brother. Speaking of Chris and taking care of you, what did he do for your birthday this year? I'm sorry I missed your birthday. Seventeen's a pretty good year. Much better than your sweet sixteen. I wish I could be there to enjoy it with you…_

_If I am correct, you've also just started your junior year. Tell me all about it, and don't spare any details. I need something to distract me from all the chaos going on over here. My buddy Carl and I tend to talk about home a lot whenever it gets calm, but it's nicer to read the letter you sent me. I can hear you in my head and it's extremely comforting._

_I should let you know, I don't know how often I can write to you. I can only send and receive mail when I get to my next scheduled camp. However fast or slow I move is however fast or slow I get to hear from you. Study hard. Make me proud. I love you so much._

_I miss you, Emma. _

_Your Traveling Soldier,_

_Will_

The letter was tucked away in a shoebox in Emma's bedroom. She'd read through it just as much as the first one, but it just tended to upset her, in complete honesty. Maybe her mother was right; it was wrong to be so attached to someone that missing them had a tendency to consume her being. But her mother didn't understand – how could she? She'd never had a best friend like Will, and sure she loved Emma's father very much, but what did that mean to Emma? Rose hadn't had to deal with her best friend leaving in a potentially life-threatening situation. Tired of seeing Emma mope over the letter and Will's absence, Rose demanded that Emma put the letter away; that it wasn't to leave her bedroom and her attitude was to improve. 'I understand you're going through something, Emma, but this is just ridiculous. Now put that letter away and come down to eat dinner.' Emma had done as she was told, but it didn't stop her from missing her best friend. At least not at first.

Emma ended up waiting until after dinner that night to put it away. She told herself that after dinner, she'd write back and then put the letter in her keepsakes shoebox underneath her bed. Writing back had been difficult for her – why did he want to know about school? It was nothing exciting, and he'd just lived through it himself. But then, he was living through much more difficult things at the moment than the dull experience that was high school. So she filled him in on everything – classes, teachers, joining Glee Club, volunteering at the library, and anything she could that was related to Clarissa or herself. It wasn't very much, but it was hopefully enough to distract him from what he was dealing with in the meantime.

Once the letter to Will was sent off, the one she received went into her shoebox under her bed and she ignored it. She wasn't going to spend her time reading his letters over and over again and miss out on everything else that was going on. She had her SATs to prepare for and colleges to apply to. She was sitting at her desk filling out yet another university application when there was a gentle knock on her door.

"Come in!"

She set her pen down on the desk and turned around just as the door was opening to reveal her father with a plate of cookies.

"Hey, sweetie. Busy?"

Emma shook her head and gestured at her desk. "Just another college application. I've filled out so many applications 'Pillsbury' looks extremely odd," she let out a small laugh and looked at her father. "What's going on?"

Rusty stepped through the door and closed it behind himself. He walked over to Emma's immaculately made bed and sat on the edge of it, placing the plate of cookies on her night side table gently. He ignored her question, choosing instead to give her a question in response.

"How's keeping yourself busy going?" His head tilted to the side and he studied his daughter through gentle eyes. She was turning into such a strong young woman – when did that happen?

Emma stared at her application momentarily before turning around to face her father. Her eyes were wide and innocent, brimmed with tears and her lower lip was trembling. He could see her sitting before him at seventeen years of age, but when he actually _saw_ her, she was still four years old and looking at him with the biggest eyes and all the innocence and admiration in the world. Suddenly, Rusty was thrown back thirteen years.

"_BUT EMMA MADE ME!"_

"_NO I DIDN'T, CHRIST-OH-FUR!" _

_Emma's little lip was trembling and tears were forming in her eyes as she stared up at her father. It was a Saturday morning in the Pillsbury household which meant two things. Number one, Rose got to sleep in while Rusty was home for the weekend and the children were to be quiet until she woke up. Number two, Chris and Emma were to be well behaved until Rusty rose at eight-fifteen on the dot to make them breakfast. Most mornings, this wasn't a problem for the two children of four and eleven years old. This, however, was not one of those mornings._

_Rusty woke up at eight-fifteen as usual and rolled out of bed, slipping his slippers on and throwing on his robe. He leaned over to kiss his wife's temple sweetly as she slumbered on, then crept out of the bedroom quietly, closing the door to keep the room as quiet as possible for his sleeping flower. Reaching the staircase, Rusty quietly and quickly descended to the main floor of the house. Most Saturday mornings, he found Christopher playing with some of his toys while Emma sat in the corner and coloured to keep herself occupied. On this particular Saturday, Emma and Chris were nowhere to be found in the living room. Just as he was about to call for them, Rusty heard a loud clank and a squealed giggle from the kitchen. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and entered the kitchen._

_What he expected to find when he entered the kitchen, he wasn't completely sure, but it definitely was not the crazy mess that greeted him. The floor was covered in what looked like attempted pancake batter, there was syrup spilled over on one counter, the oven was on rather than the stove, Chris was licking the spatula he'd used to make the batter, and Emma was almost completely covered from head to toe in dry pancake mix. Each child's eyes widened when they registered their father's presence, and Rusty had a hard time looking stern, rather than laughing at the adorably comical scenario before him._

"_Good morning, children of mine. Who wants to explain to me what happened?"_

"_IT WAS EMMA!" Chris yelled, flinging the spatula towards his baby sister, splattering her with batter._

"_NO IT WASN'T!" Emma's tiny brow furrowed and her eyes widened, staring up at her father._

_Rusty looked at each of them sternly, his gaze coming to rest on his son. "Christopher. Emma is four years old and can't reach the ingredients for pancakes. How about we tell the truth?"_

"_I am telling the truth! It was her idea! She made me do it!"_

_Rusty's eyes darted over to glance at Emma. She was clapping her hands quietly together and patting her dress, watching the little puffs of batter that erupted from each pat. Her entertainment was interrupted by Christopher's accusation._

"_No, I di-in't! I was just hungry." Her petite shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and she pouted at the floor._

"_Alright. Christopher, you're going to clean up this mess on the floor while I get your little sister cleaned up. Then I'll make breakfast for all of us, okay?" Rusty looked sternly at his son before turning to walk to pick up Emma._

"_BUT EMMA MADE ME!"_

"_NO I DIDN'T, CHRIST-OH-FUR!" Emma's lower lip started trembling and tears started to fill her eyes as she gazed up at her father. "Daddy, it wasn't me! I p-promise!" She stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Emma had eyes only for her father, always wanting his approval; always needing to make him proud of her, even at a young age. She admired him more than anyone else in the world, and the idea that he'd think she was bad or did something wrong was starting to upset her._

"_You were just hungry, baby girl. It's okay. Chris was just being a good big brother." Rusty gave each of them a smile before scooping up Emma. He kissed his little girl's cheek, ruffled Christopher's hair, then walked out of the kitchen with Emma to get her cleaned up before breakfast, amazed that Rose had slept through the commotion._

Rusty looked at his daughter with a sad smile. "That badly, huh?"

Emma nodded and sighed, blinking away her tears and sniffling. "I blame you and Mommy. You shouldn't have let me get so attached to him, or him to me."

Her comment was half-hearted. It was always easier to place the blame on other people when you were sad. Her father nodded at her and patted the bed next to him. Emma heaved herself up off her desk chair and walked over, sitting next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"We tried not to let you two get too attached to each other. You cried for four hours and Will came over the next day asking why we were ending his life."

Emma couldn't help but laugh at the memory. It had been the summer before Emma started middle school. She was twelve years old and she and Will were inseparable. Aside from dinner and sleeping, they were outside all day together playing or drawing or just relaxing on the grass. Sometimes Will's mom had them over to play games and spend time just the three of them, though it was weird because she was clearly drunk each time.

Halfway through the summer, Rose approached Rusty, nervous that Emma was becoming too free around Will. '_She is so young; she should be playing with girls, not having a boyfriend at the age of twelve!' _Rose had said. Rusty felt that it was harmless and it was good Emma had a friend. After the incident at the dairy farm and the aftereffects of the event, not many kids wanted to befriend her. They all preferred to tease her or ignore her altogether. Will, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be around Emma, hanging out with her and taking care of her. He seemed to keep the bullies at bay. Still, Rose had the authority; if she didn't they would just argue about this until kingdom come. That night after the streetlights came on and Emma returned home, Rose and Rusty sat her down in the living room.

"_Emma, your mother and I were talking earlier," Rusty began, looking over at his wife. She gestured at him to continue. He sighed. "We were talking, and we've decided that it's best if maybe you and Will don't play together for a while."_

_Emma stared at her parents for a moment, the words not completely making sense to her._

"_What do you mean?" She asked, her brow furrowing in confusion._

"_We mean that we don't think you should play with Will any longer. It's not healthy, Emma. You're a young lady; you should be playing with other girls, not running around with a boy." Rose nodded very seriously at her, moving to sit next to her._

"_None of the other kids at school want anything to do with me! The kids who do want something to do with me would rather point and laugh and make mean comments. Will's my only friend, Mom! Why are you being so mean?"_

"_We're not being mean, Emma. We're being realistic. You can't be around that boy all the time. It's not healthy and we've let it go on far too long. We'll be calling Will's mother to let her know of the change in plans once you go to get cleaned up."_

_Emma's lower lip trembled and she looked at her father. "Daddy?" Her voice was weak and cracked on the second syllable._

_Rusty placed his hands up and shook his head. "It's out of my hands, honey. I'm sorry."_

_His words did nothing to comfort Emma as she stood, turning to go to the stairs. She swallowed as her tears spilled over and she sniffled, turning to look back at them, her head shaking. "You're not being fair."_

"_Well life's not fair, Emma. Now go get cleaned up for bed." Rose's tone was one of finality as she stood to call Will's mother._

_Emma had gone upstairs to get cleaned, then proceeded to lay down for bed, crying for four hours before she finally fell asleep. She didn't understand what the difference was between spending time with Will all day and spending time with Christopher all day. They were both boys; it just wasn't fair._

_When she'd woken up the next morning, there was a knocking going on downstairs and she'd gone to the head of the stairs. She was starting to descend when her father opened the door and she distinctly heard Will say, "Good morning, Mister Pillsbury. Why are you ending my life? Did I do something wrong?"_

"_End your life?" Rusty laughed at the question, utterly perplexed._

"_Yeah, I woke up this morning and Mom said I can't see Emma anymore. I just wanted to come ask why you're ending my life."_

"We were just dramatic, I guess."

"Not dramatic. I knew what was going on before either of you two realized what was going on. You were just too young to see it."

Rusty wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulder, giving her a small squeeze. He kissed her head gently.

"I know Chris thinks I'm all sad and mopey because Will's at war, but that's not the sole reasoning behind it," Emma's head shook and she sighed. "I'm just so bored, and I know it's my own fault for being mysophobic and by association slightly anti-social."

"I understand. It makes sense, and it's not your fault, Emma. You can't help that other kids aren't accepting enough to make you feel comfortable associating." Rusty fell silent for a few moments, thinking of a way to make Emma feel a bit better. "What about the Beiste girl?"

Emma reached for a cookie on the nightstand and took a piece off, handing it to her father before biting her own piece, "The who, now?"

Rusty chewed his piece of cookie and gestured out the window. "The Beiste girl. They're new in town, but they've got a daughter about your age. You could use a friend, she could probably use a friend…why don't you head over tomorrow morning before school and get acquainted?"

After a few minutes of consideration, Emma nodded. "Alright, I'll try it. Thank you, Daddy."

Her arms wrapped around him from the side and she gave him a gentle squeeze. Rusty's face spread into a smile, his arms moving to hug his daughter back.

"Right. Let's get to bed, then, shall we? I love you, Em." He planted a kiss on her head before standing, taking the plate from the table and heading out of the door. "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight, Daddy. Love you."

-x-

The next morning, Emma got ready for school super early, wanting to have time to go across the street to meet the new neighbors' daughter. She skipped over about half an hour before she needed to walk to school and knocked on the Beistes' door gently. Within seconds, the door was opened by a rather tall woman with short, curly, chestnut coloured hair. She had a smile plastered on her face, looking down cheerfully at the young woman before her.

"Well good morning to ya! What can I do for you, cutie?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Beiste. My name's Emma Pillsbury. I live in the house across the way, and my father mentioned you've got a daughter around my age. I wondered if maybe she'd like someone to walk to school with?" Emma's hands fidgeted with her schoolbag slightly as she looked up at the broad woman before her.

"Oh, please, call me Susan, punkin! Come in, come in!" Susan Beiste stood out of the way and Emma nervously stepped through, looking around the entryway. There were pictures all over the walls of the two children, as well as their parents. "Shannon! Emma from down the street is here!"

"Who?"

"Her name's Emma! Come out here, and tell Ida to put her lunch in her bag!" Susan turned to Emma and smiled, seeing she was looking at the pictures. She pointed to the man, then both girls. "That's my husband, Jack. He's at work now, but he'll be glad to hear Shannon's making a friend! And then this is Shannon, who is a junior, and Ida, she's a freshman."

Just as she finished explaining, a young girl joined them. She was almost an exact copy of her mother, except her hair was a bit shorter. She had a kind smile and immediately held out a hand to Emma.

"Hey, I'm Shannon."

Emma swallowed, reaching out hesitantly to shake her hand. "Emma. Your mom says you're a junior. So am I. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet ya, too."

Later that day, Emma found herself sitting with Shannon at a table in the far corner of the lunchroom. The two girls ended up being in a couple of classes together, so they'd had a lot of time to get to know each other. Emma pulled out her lunch of grapes, a PB&J sandwich, and some carrot sticks, her eyes widening when Shannon pulled out a whole Cornish hen.

"W-wow, Shannon. That's, uhm, quite the animal you're enjoying there," Emma commented, watching Shannon dig right in.

Shannon smiled up at Emma and smiled. "It's my favourite – full of protein. Gotta keep the fuel tank filled!"

After that, they ate in silence for a while before Shannon looked at Emma.

"I hope I'm not bein' rude here, but why don't you have more friends? You're a real nice girl, Emma."

Emma swallowed. "I, uhm, I have this, uhm, germ…thing. People would rather tease than befriend, I guess." She shrugged. "I have a best friend, though, but he's graduated and, uhm, he's…he was drafted a few months back." She nodded and took a bite of carrot.

"Aw, Emma. I'm sorry. Ya know, my cousin got drafted, too. It's a hard road, but they'll be fine. Gotta be positive!" She ripped off a piece of meat and stuffed it in her mouth, licking her thumb.

"Yeah, I know," Emma smiled at her softly. "Hey, but I guess I do have more friends now. If you want to be my friend, that is."

Shannon looked around like she had to think about it for a while before smiling at her and nodding. "Of course I do!"

Emma returned the smile and turned back to her lunch, pausing then looking back at Shannon, "Hey, do you and your family do anything on Saturdays?"

"Nah, why?"

"Do you want to get together and do something?" Emma was hopeful in her request. Going to the park after all of these months without Will was just getting depressing. It made her miss him more, and it was getting too cold for Clarissa to spend all the time outside, so she'd had to back out a couple of weekends in a row.

"Sure! Gee, I'm sure glad I met ya on my first day here!"

"I'm glad I met you, too!"

The girls shared a smile before each of them turning back to their own lunches, each of them excited to have a new friend at their side.


	5. One More Spoon of Cough Syrup Now

_**A/N:**_And I bring to you updates!(: A couple of things here. It talks about Clarissa coming and staying with Will and his Mom when he was younger. I am going to try and fit it in somewhere within the story, but in case I can't, while Clarissa did live with Will and Melissa, she had to go home for periods of time as well, so she didn't _consistently_ live with Will until his mother died when he was 15.

There's also a writing style shift here, and it's a bit more in Will's head and though process.

So here is chapter 5. 6 and 7 will be put up momentarily. As always R&R is always welcome!(: -Tayma

** "One More Spoon of Cough Syrup Now" from _Cough Syrup_ by Young the Giant**

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Chapter 5: One More Spoon of Cough Syrup Now 

_ November 12, 1959_

_Traveling Soldier, _

_To start off, I am glad to hear that Clarissa is writing you as well. I know she misses you terribly – no doubt far more than I do, but she's putting on a much braver face than I am. Brave face. I can't even pretend that's what I've put on these past few weeks. I'm terrible, you know that? I've read each of your letters to the point where before dinner; Mom told me the letters are not to leave my room. She says I'm moping – they all think I'm moping. Maybe I am, but I am just so bored without you. Yes, some of it has to do with the fact that you're out there, putting your life on the line and you're not here with me, but some of it is also just pure boredom. Like you said about reading my letters, when I read yours, I hear you and it's like you're sitting with me. It's a comfort and it is far less boring hearing you in my head._

_Going to war doesn't automatically mean you have to be a super tough and emotionless guy, Will. I am sure there are plenty of other men there missing their friends and parents; I highly doubt you are alone on that front. I understand the need to get home soon, but please, Will. Be careful. You can't go around being careless, even if careless equals faster. Careless could mean the difference between coming home in one piece or coming home missing pieces of yourself. Not to mention, hearing that you've had close calls worries me further than I already was in just imagining the possibility. So I thank you for not divulging details to me; I would really just rather picture you as safe as possible. Details will just make me stress over you more. You know me far too well._

_As for my birthday, you really didn't miss much. Mom and Dad had to go to Virginia to take care of Grandma for a couple of weeks. She fell and broke her hip, which meant she needed some help rehabilitating after she got home from the hospital. Christopher was great, though. He got some of my favourite sorbet and he baked me a cake. He actually __**baked**__ it. I have never been more amazed with my brother. It was a great birthday to be honest; he even got me a gift. Not a gag gift like the one last year, but a real gift. I'm so glad to have a brother as amazing as Chris. He does take good care of me, so don't you worry your handsome head over there, Will. He'll be here to spend my seventeenth year with me, but you'll be here for my eighteenth. I can feel it._

_Wow, even so far away you are on top of things! I did start school, though I don't exactly know why you want to know every single detail. You just lived through high school yourself, but I'll tell you everything that I can. _

_I've got the basic classes: Math, English, History, and Biology. I've got Mister Ableson for Math – I know you didn't' have him for Math, so let me just tell you that he is a really difficult one. He assigns so much homework it makes my head hurt, but I am keeping up as best as I can. Math homework alone takes me a couple of hours each night to complete. For English I have Miss Rimes, and she is so amazing. We're reading this great book already called __Wuthering Heights__ and it's just so captivating. I'm actually ahead in the readings because it was too good for me to put down this past weekend. Biology and History are both pretty good, mainly History with Miss Stints. She's a really good teacher and she makes history interesting enough to where I don't want to fall asleep. Biology is with Doctor Seamus. He's absolutely hilarious, but I got paired up with that jerk football player for a partner in the lab portions. That's got to be the worst punishment that life could have thrown at me, but I have decided just to embrace it and try to be the bigger person. He was actually nice to me the last couple of times we met in the halls, so maybe he's changing._

_I also joined the Glee Club this year – yes, I finally did it. Funny that it took you leaving the club to get me to actually join, but I did it and I love it. I've gotten one solo so far, but other than that, I'm perfectly fine with swaying in the back. You know me – the less attention I get the better. I don't need to make a fool of myself singing in front of everyone, only to get teased further. Other than that, I'm still volunteering at the library. I've been promoted to actually checking the books out to people this year, rather than just shelving them and helping people find them. Emma Pillsbury is moving up in this world, Will! _

_The weather's changing here. It's getting so much colder now and I'm in love with it. The only downside is that I get to see Grandma Clarissa less. You know how she gets with the cold weather, and she's not able to stay out at the park on Saturdays anymore, so they've taken the backseat for a bit. I do still see her, though. She's had me over for dinner a few times these past weeks. I'm really glad that she and I have a bond of sorts. It's weird having a mother figure who actually gives a care about you and what you do. You're so lucky to have her in your life Will, honestly and truly._

_I know I don't know who Carl is, but tell him I said hello and to be safe. I'm glad you've found a companion there, Will. Don't tell me – is he a ginger, too? How are you, Will? Are you okay over there for the most part? Do you have all four limbs and all ten fingers and toes? I really hope you still do. I really hope this letter has provided you a distraction of some sort. _

_Don't worry about writing back by a certain time, Will. You're doing a very serious and honorable job over there. You shouldn't rush because you feel you need to get back to me quickly. I know you won't forget me. Take your time, Will, and please, please be safe for me. I love you with all my heart. I miss you something crazy, Will._

_Love always,_

_Emma_

Will let out a laugh as he read over the letter and turned towards his buddy. Carl and Will had reached the camp a few hours ago, which meant they had a short time to get some food down, read any mail they may have received, write back and catch some sleep before they had to set back out the next morning.

"Emma has asked me to say hello to you. She thinks you're a ginger."

Carl let out a laugh and shook his head. "She knows I'm not, even if she isn't aware of it. We've met before. She served me at the diner one day; great pie maker. Tell her hey."

"Yeah, she's talented in that field."

Will lay back against the uncomfortable, creaky cot and shifted gently, reading through the letter again. She was being so formal in the letter, but he couldn't exactly blame her. He felt that he _had_ to pour out all of his emotion and feelings to her in his letters. What if they were the last things that he ever said to her? But he knew Emma, and he knew her too well. She could be writing her letters thinking 'This could be the last thing I ever say to him,' but she could never put herself on the line for him. She was already being risky by giving him her heart moments before he left her; that spoke more to him than anything she ever could actually say in her letters. It's the final lines, though, that reassure him she cares; she just doesn't know how to show it and not make herself appear too emotional. He hoped she knew that was okay.

The third time he read through the letter, Will's eyes caught onto one word particularly: honorable. There was nothing honorable about what he was doing, at least not in his mind. They were halfway around the world fighting someone else's battles, trained for a few weeks to kill men for a cause that he wasn't even sure he understood. This game of kill or be killed had nothing honorable about it, nothing brave, nothing glamorous. It was just that: kill or be killed, whether physically or emotionally or mentally, Will already knew that he was, in some way, going to die out there. He just couldn't acknowledge it.

Acknowledging the fact that he was going to die in some manner was not allowed for him. Carl acknowledged it all the time, in fact he embraced it. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to go home in a body bag or as a pile of ashes. Repeatedly Carl stated that he had nothing worth going back for, and it made Will feel awful for him. What was it like not having a family member to go home to? How did it feel not having someone you love more than anything in the world waiting back home for you? Was it lonely telling yourself that each step you're taking could be the last one you ever walk on this Earth? Will didn't want to know, and he didn't want Emma to know.

Emma. She was the reason he was always so positive, always thinking and hoping for the best. She was the sole purpose in him putting on a brave face and acting like everything around him wasn't crazy when he wrote letters to her. What was the point in worrying her further? She didn't need to know about close calls and late nights, all the times they got lost, his injuries and doubts. Emma was so fragile as it was. She was always so easily stressed and the few anxiety attacks Will had witnessed and helped her through were awful. There was nothing that could be accomplished by giving her details, aside from making her worry more and possibly making her sick. So he would be brave and he would act like everything was okay, because for Emma, it needed to be.

Will reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pencil that he'd been using anytime he needed to write or mark something down. He grabbed some paper from the pack he carried around with him and rested it against the taut fabric of his cot, beginning to write a response to Emma. He looked at the date on her letter and took note of the current date. It was already January – she'd written this letter two months ago. How had the time passed to slowly, yet also flown by so quickly? She knew he wouldn't be able to write that often, he just hoped it didn't mean she was worrying more.

Starting the letter was the hardest part for Will. He didn't know exactly what to say always, and he wasn't sure what to say to her and what he shouldn't. He never wanted to upset her, and he tried to make sure he worded everything in a supportive manner. He wasn't there, but he'd promised when they were small that he would protect her as best as he could. He had to uphold that promise.

Her words about Clarissa worried him. His grandmother hadn't written him back since the first letter, and now with the weather changing, he knew she was prone to illness. Will knew Emma would tell him if something was the matter, but he worried, nonetheless. Clarissa was more than a grandmother to him; she was the Mom that he never got – or maybe the Mom that was taken from him by alcohol when he was in kindergarten.

_Will's tiny hand wrapped around the large doorknob on the Schuesters' front door and he attempted to turn the large metal sphere. His tiny fingers weren't large enough to get a firm grip on the cold metal, and his fingers were going slightly numb. He reached up with both hands and squeezed with all of his might, turning the knob slowly and pushing the door open, stumbling through the door in his large coat and snow boots. This was the fourth time this week he'd walked the four blocks from the school bus stop alone after school. As if nothing was out of the ordinary, Will turned around and closed the front door, removing his jacket and boots. His small nose and cheeks turned red upon contact with the warm air inside of the house and he marched through the house quietly, on a mission to find his mother._

"_Mommy?"_

_Silence greeted him. Things at home had changed greatly in the past few months. The man he called 'Daddy' packed up a suitcase at the start of the summer and walked out of the front door without a glance back. He'd told Will that he would be back soon from his trip to see him, but he still hadn't returned. Will just figured that he was really busy doing something and he'd come back when he had time, or maybe he got lost coming home; he had no idea that he'd never see his father again._

_Will was pretty sure that his mommy missed his daddy a lot. After he went away on his "trip," his mommy started changing. She wasn't all happy anymore and she didn't give him as many hugs and kisses as she did before. She'd also started drinking this really weird smelling stuff that made her really tired and made her talking all funny and jumbled. Sometimes, she forgot to make dinner, too, but that was okay. Will knew how to make cereal and peanut butter sandwiches._

"_Mommy?" Will called again, this time his voice a little louder. When he'd looked all around downstairs, he decided to go look upstairs for her. He was starting to get a little bit scared; he always saw his mommy after school. She was always downstairs. What if she was lost, too, like his daddy? Running upstairs, the young boy ran straight into his mother's room, his little curls bouncing around as he pushed the door open. There, on the mattress, was his mom. She was lying diagonally across the bed and her hand held a bottle in it. She lifted her head and gave him a lazy smile, pointing at him with her free hand._

"_Heeeeey, kiddo. Yer home!"_

_Will swallowed and walked over to her, scrambling up on the bed. _

"_You forgot me again," he said, pouting. His tiny fingers played with the blankets on her bed and he looked at her, his lower lip trembling._

"_No, no. I didn' ferget you, I jus…" she took a swig from the bottle and swallowed noisily, "You are a big boy, William. You can taycare of yerseelf."_

_That's when everything started to get pretty bad. The moment Melissa voiced to her son that he could take care of himself, it was as if she had opened a door in her mind that told her he could do so as well. Forgetting him at the bus stop or not making him a lunch for school became a regular thing by the time the spring rolled around. The only time Melissa ever left the house was once a month to get groceries and more "medicine." That was it. Teachers and principals were repeatedly calling her to see what was happening, but there was either no answer or she'd hang up upon hearing who was on the other end. Not wanting to get the child involved in telling too much about his home life, the principal resorted to calling his emergency contact one afternoon, explaining what was going on. They strongly advised that something be done to make sure Will had lunches each day and make sure that he had a way to get home as well. It was becoming worrisome._

_Days before Will's sixth birthday, Clarissa Schuester showed up to the Schuester residence, a bag in hand. She waited on the front porch for Will to get home from school, smiling widely at his delight to see her._

"_Grandma!" Will yelled upon seeing her, running up to her and diving into her arms. His hair was long and curly and he'd gotten taller since she'd last seen him almost a year ago._

"_Hi, little man! My, you're getting so big!"_

"_Yeah, I'm gonna be six in four days!"_

"_That's pretty big! Where's your mommy?"_

_Will sighed in a rather adorable manner and pointed up through the front door. "Taking her naps. Every day after school, she falls asleep after she drinks this weird smelling medicine stuff. I tasted it one time and it tastes like toes." His little nose wrinkled and he shook his head._

"_Oh yeah? Where's your Daddy?"_

"_He's still not home from a trip."_

_That was all it took for Clarissa to understand what had been happening. Her son had never been the commitment type and she was sure that Melissa had to have known that going in. The fact that he was able to make a commitment to her for seven years was a record as it was; leaving, though, was no surprise. What was a surprise was that Melissa had reacted like this. _

"_Alright, well how about Grandma takes you inside and we'll eat something and then see about getting Mommy up from a nap?"_

_Clarissa picked up her young grandson and walked through the front door, setting her bag down just inside and closing the door behind herself, heading to make Will some food. She loved her grandson more than anything in the world. He was a perfect child with such a sweet face and the most adorable little crooked smile in the world. _

_That night, she'd yelled at Melissa. Will heard her from his bedroom. She was using scary words like 'neglectful' and 'careless' about her and Will. He didn't want to leave his mommy, even if she wasn't really there anymore. He was only a tiny kid. He needed his mommy._

Clarissa became what Will grew to know as a good mother. She was all that he knew besides his own mother, and he couldn't remember very much about her before his father left. Clarissa was the ideal mother image, and even though she was his grandmother, he always viewed her as a mother to him. Especially after the tragic accident when he was fifteen that took his mother from him. His grandmother was everything to him.

Will finished up his letter and closed it in an envelope, walking over to the box for outgoing mail and dropped it in. He returned to his cot and laid back down, folding his hands over his stomach and looking up at the ceiling above him. Where was Emma now? What was she doing? He closed his eyes and sent up a small prayer that she was doing alright and that she had sweet dreams whenever she ended up going to bed. He prayed that she would know how much he loved her, and he prayed that he would get home to her and see her soon. Turning on his side, Will grunted, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable on the uncomfortable cot. It took some time, but at last he fell asleep, thinking of Emma, his prayers repeating like a mantra in his mind.


	6. Just Gotta Get Right Out of Here

**A/N**: Nothing super crazy to say about this one!(: Enjoy! R&R loved as always ;)_  
_

"Just Gotta Get Right Out of Here" from _Bohemian Rhapsody_ by Queen.

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Chapter 6: Just Gotta Get Right Out of Here

_January 5, 1960_

_My Dearest Emma,_

_Let me begin by wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. I apologize that I have missed all of these holidays that we generally spend together with your family and my grandmother. I really missed you, especially upon realizing all the different holidays that I missed. It's crazy how much you forget the things that at home are considered so important to everybody. I don't know what it says about me lately, but I could honestly care less about holidays after the things I have started to see. The only thing I care about is that you and my grandmother weren't with me; that I wasn't with you two – holiday or not. I guess this contradicts the whole 'being on top of things while I am so far away.' I didn't even notice the date until we got to camp._

_I'm really glad to hear about your birthday. It sounds like it was wonderful, and I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself. I am sorry to hear about your grandmother, though. I know it's rare that you get to see her, and it's a bit of a bummer that breaking her hip was the circumstance for your parents to see her. Thankfully she's alright. Are you alright? I think you're putting on a braver face than you think, because based off of your letters, you're holding up pretty well._

_Emma, high school is only not thrilling when you're in it. It's really interesting for me right now; it provides a nice little escape. I knew you'd love __Wuthering Heights__. Remember when I had to read it? I told you it would be one of your favourites. I'm glad you're enjoying most everything. Way to go getting Wayne to calm down the bullying around you. You're such a beautiful person, and you are always so sweet. I am sure that once he saw that, he saw there was no point in teasing you and tearing you down. I've always known that there is no reason to tease you and pull you down. Well, okay, maybe a little bit – you're still a weird one, Emma Pillsbury. Still, you're __**my**__ weird one, and that makes all the difference in the world. I love my weird little Emma._

_Glee Club was probably the greatest part of high school for me. Cherish it, Emma. Trust me when I say you're going to miss it big time. I do. The only downside is that singing and dancing has no relativity when it comes to the army. Then again, neither did playing Jesse James when I was younger, either. _

_The problem with everything is that nobody can prepare you for coming to war and fighting. No amount of classes and being trained could actually prepare me for the things I would be going through and the things I would be seeing. It's a nightmare come to life, and all the movies that we watch make it seem far more glamorous than it is. I promise it's not anything like what you see depicted in books and everything. It's so hard, Emma. Sometimes I don't know how I could possibly keep going when I'm so tired or when we've had a close call. Sometimes it almost doesn't seem worth it, and it's only been a few months out here. I feel awful for these guys who've been out here for a year to two since the war began. I don't know how they haven't lost their minds by now. Or maybe they have, but it's easier to act like they haven't. I don't know – there's so much I don't know. I wish I knew more, I wish I had answers. I wish that loving you was enough, because then I'd be more than prepared for this. Sadly, this is one place where that's not enough; it's just enough to keep me going when I would rather give up and let go. I am lucky to have Grandma Clarissa, but I am also so lucky to have you, Emma. I don't think I ever knew how much you meant to me until we were separated. You never know what you have until it's gone, and I have one __**amazing**__ best friend, let me tell you that._

_The weather here is pretty brutal. Winter is a nightmare; it's so cold and it snowed for a bit of time. I don't know how Carl and I managed to stave off frostbite, but we did. So yes, I've got all four limbs, all ten fingers, and all ten toes still attached to me. I'm all in one piece._

_Your letter has provided me the perfect distraction, Em. Tell me about your holidays and everything. Is Grandma Clarissa doing well? She hasn't written me back since the first letter, so I have no idea how she is doing. I pray that you are all okay and that I'll be home soon. I miss your face so much, but your picture helps me remember it; not that I have any trouble doing that on my own. _

_I love you._

_Your Traveling Soldier_

Things had been going well since she'd last heard from Will. Thanksgiving went well enough and Christmas was pretty alright. After New Year's, the Pillsbury family packed up and flew out to Virginia for a couple of weeks before vacation was over to see Rose's mother and father. Her mother had just had hip surgery a few months ago and her father was ill, so it was best that they took a trip to see the both of them.

Two weeks in Virginia sounded like a haven for Emma. It was a break from Lima and from the kids at school who were flooding the café every day. No matter where she went in the town, it was impossible to get away from people she knew or knew of from school. Aside from Shannon, there wasn't anyone at school that Emma had any interest in talking to or dealing with, but there they were, sitting in the café, teasing and taunting. There was no escape. When her mother hardly mentioned going to Virginia, Emma encouraged it with everything that she had, begging her mom to change the 'maybe' into a yes. Surprisingly, her begging was all it took for Rose to decide a few moments later that they would definitely be going. Unfortunately, Virginia wasn't as great as she'd envisioned it.

Much like their daughter, Rose's parents were very critical of Emma in particular when it came to her little issues. They also didn't approve of her working in a café, believing that a woman's place was at home, period. They could care less that she was saving up to go to school the next year and eventually, Emma took to walking around the small town her grandparents lived in. She walked all over during the day, trying to stay away from them as much as possible. Christopher often joined her in her walks as they'd jumped down his throat as well for not being closer to marriage at this point.

On their fourth day in Virginia, Christopher and Emma settled into a booth at a local café and ordered hot coffees and some cookies. Emma was looking out of the window, daydreaming. It was raining which meant their walk would have to be put on hold, but inside of the café was warm and cozy so she didn't really mind.

"Not what you were hoping for, was it?" Her brother asked, looking over at her and raising an eyebrow.

Emma was pulled from her thoughts and shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She smiled when their coffee and food came, thanking the waitress. She pulled the hot cup towards herself and blew on it before taking a sip.

"I know you, Em. I know school's been tough and you were hoping to escape the ridicule by coming here."

"Okay, you need to stop knowing me so well. Pretty sure that's not normal for a brother and sister."

"Have we ever been normal?"

"Well most brothers aren't the catalyst to an obsessive compulsive disorder, so no I'm thinking not."

Christopher's eyebrows raised and he looked at Emma. It was rare that she was ever sarcastic towards him or speaking with anything but kindness. It was even rarer that she ever brought up the trip that led to her being how she was now.

"I'm sorry," Emma started looking at him apologetically, "I just wonder if it ever ends. Somehow you and I are always messing up. First you messed up because you wanted to become a writer instead of going to med school or law school. Now you're not getting married fast enough. Meanwhile, I'm working to pay for school so I can go to the same university as my best friend when he gets home in an attempt to make something of myself, and I'm wrong. Why can't we ever be right? God, all we want is to get out of Lima. Is that so much to ask for?"

Emma looked down at her coffee and poured in a little bit of sugar and stirring it. She couldn't ever remember a time when she wanted to stay in Lima, even though she'd lived there all of her life. She took a deep breath before lifting the hot liquid to her lips, her mind on a conversation she'd had with Chris a couple years earlier.

_Summer rolled around quickly in 1957, bringing with it the heat and Christopher's return home from University. Much to her parents' dismay, he was halfway through his schooling at Yale, studying Journalism. For as long as Emma could remember, all Chris ever talked about was being a writer and reporting for the news like Walter Cronkite. When he got into Yale to study writing and journalism, Emma was completely thrilled for her big brother; he was going to follow his dreams and she thought that was the most brilliant thing ever. Her parents felt the opposite. 'To be successful, you have to make money, and not everyone can be Walter Cronkite' their parents repeatedly said to Chris. They wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer or a surgeon. Money was what mattered and those jobs meant money. Each year that he came home for summer, Emma eagerly listened to everything he had to tell her about Connecticut, soaking up each detail she could. Leaving Lima seemed like the most amazing thing to her._

_When Chris rolled up in his car, suitcases in the back seat, Emma ran out to the car, practically tackling her brother in a hug, ready to hear everything she could about how school was going. They had to spend the afternoon with their parents, but when night rolled around and her parents went to bed, Emma went to her brother's room and sat, listening to him talk for a couple of hours. He was making something of himself and Emma was so proud of him. It was nearing one in the morning when Christopher turned to her, asking her a question, rather than the other way around._

"_What about you, Emma?"_

"_What do you mean what about me?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I'm still at McKinley. Nothing exciting there."_

"_I mean have you thought about what you want to do after you graduate? It's only a couple years away," Chris looked at his sister intently, watching her shrug her shoulders._

"_I don't know. I really want to go to school and see places outside of Lima and Virginia. Mom says, though, that a woman's place is at home, so I should be like her and marry after high school." Emma made a face and laid on her side, propping her head up on her hand._

"_You don't want to?"_

"_No, not really. Sure, getting married would be wonderful," she blushed, her mind darting to her best friend, Will. "But I don't want to stay here. I don't want to stay in Lima for the rest of my life. It's not the place for me."_

"_I don't know about that, Emma. I've seen you and how you are around here. You're loved by the older people in the community and you're so sweet. You fit in perfectly here."_

"_You don't think I should go?"_

"_I think you're good here. You're safe."_

"_B-but, Chris…I want to be like you."_

"_Emma you know I love you, but you can't be like me. You're a girl. It's different."_

_Emma sat up, taken aback by his words. Her brother had always supported her in everything she wanted to do. Why was he discouraging her?_

"_I'm a girl so I'm not smart enough? What are you say – I want to go to school, Chris. I want to get out of here!"_

"_I never said you aren't smart! I'm just saying it's better if you listen to Mom and Dad. They know what's best for you."_

"_I am sure they think they know what's best for you, too, but you didn't listen! Why should I?"_

"_Why do you want to go so badly?"_

_Emma bit her lip and looked away from him, her head shaking slightly. What was she supposed to say that didn't sound immature? She didn't feel like she belonged in Lima. She was teased and looked at funny, and her best friend was leaving to go to NYU anyways. There wasn't really anything for her._

"_Emma. Why?"_

"_Because I do! Will's leaving to go to NYU and he's the only thing good I have going for me here, and even then, nothing is going anywhere because he doesn't care about me the way that I care about him. I have nothing keeping me here, except you, but even you've gone. Everything I do is wrong, Christopher, and you don't live here anymore so you don't really see it, but I am __**never **__right! Never! Daddy is always trying to be on my side, but he can't because he's afraid of upsetting Mom, so I'm…I just want to go, Christopher. I just want to go and get out of Lima! I thought that you of all people would understand and support me! Is that so much to ask for?" _

_Christopher looked at his little sister and nodded. He understood exactly where she was coming from, seeing as he felt the same way._

"_Okay. Then you'll do it. You'll get out and I'll help you."_

_Emma looked at Chris and swallowed, nodding. _

"It's not too much to ask for, Emma. I told you, I'm going to help you get out." Christopher looked at his sister, and they knew that they were both thinking back to the same conversation, "But it's going to take some time. You've got a year and a half left of high school, and then I promise I'm going to help you get to whatever school you go to. You just have to stop caring what they think."

"I can't just stop caring what they think, Christopher. They're our family."

"And still they're pushing us both to get married and you to become a housewife instead of making something of yourself. They're too old-fashioned for their own good, Em. And anyways, you can't get married."

"What? Why not?"

"If I'm correct, your boyfriend is halfway around the world at the moment. Marriage is just not in the cards." Chris made his voice high-pitched and shrill like their grandmother's on the last sentence, causing Emma to laugh and shake her head.

"Thanks, Chris."

"Anytime. Now are you going to finish that cookie?" Chris pointed at her cookie and she raised an eyebrow.

"You have two of your own in front of you."

"I know. Just taking Will's line."

Her eyes rolled and she picked it up, taking a bite. "Well yes. I am."

After that afternoon, Emma and Chris spent the rest of their time in Virginia camped out in the café, talking and planning things to do over the upcoming summer. Somehow, he managed to make her forget about Will being gone after his mention of him that first afternoon in the café and it made the vacation a little bit easier.

By the time they got home from Virginia, Emma was in full focus mode. She had competitions to focus on in Glee, plenty of schoolwork to keep her occupied and regular hang out days with Shannon. It wasn't until school started that Will's letter came through her mail and Emma couldn't be happier to hear from him.

He'd missed so much during the holidays and she planned to fill him in as much as she could, but writing back to him came difficult for her. It almost felt like she didn't know what exactly to say to him and she didn't want to sound too formal. On the other hand, she couldn't not write back. It was just proving hard for her to talk to him and not be able to see him. It took her two days to finally write back and send it off, taking the letter from him and putting it in the box with the others. She didn't really want to see them.

Reading his letters was proving to be slightly annoying by this point. Though he'd only sent three or four, each of them had him telling her what he thought of her and what he felt about her. Why hadn't he told her sooner? Why did it take him leaving to start telling her everything? What if he couldn't ever act on it? Emma figured that must have been the case. Tell her everything because he knew it wouldn't matter. Either he wouldn't be able to act on it or by the time he came home, he would think it irrelevant and they would move on to be their own people without each other.

Her mother wasn't much help in that department, either. She'd read each letter and given her own opinions on them quite plainly to Emma. According to Rose, he was playing with her heart. She said that he didn't really feel all of those things for her, but he was so far away that it didn't matter. He knew he could say and promise whatever he wanted to and never have to actually act on it. That's what she'd told Emma, and knowing her daughter, she'd been smart to do so. Now Emma doubted things she'd never doubted before. She wondered about Will's loyalty as a friend and his true motives behind asking her to be with him just before leaving. She just didn't understand why no matter how often she doubted him thanks to her mother's words, she could never call him a liar. She always found reasons to stop doubting him and start trusting him all over again. Will had always been there for her from the moment he called her weird and sat with her at recess; there was no better friend in the world than Will Schuester.

Doubting and trusting and annoyances aside, reading his letters was just too much. She never reread the other two after they went into the box, and she didn't plan on rereading this one, either. It just didn't seem fair to her that she gets to read his words and hear his voice in her head, but she didn't get to see him or hug him. She thought long and hard about her feelings each time she wrote him, wanting to lay her heart on the line and tell him everything she felt about him, all the ways that she missed him and all the ways that she loved him. No matter how much she thought, though, Emma couldn't bring herself to write it all down for him. It scared her too much because she felt that if she told him everything, it would mean accepting that he might die. It meant that she'd given up on him and decided to tell him over letter because he'd never get the chance to tell him in person. She _hadn't_ given up on him, though, and she _would _get the chance to tell him in person. Emma knew in her heart that she would be able to face him and tell him how much she loved him. So no. She wouldn't write it to him in a letter. She would write to him as much as she felt appropriate and keep the rest safe in her heart and tell him when he came home.

If only she knew what was to come, maybe she would have told him everything sooner.


	7. All That I Know Is I'm Breathing

**A/N: This is both the story's halfway point, and also a turning point in the story. So...prepare yourselves.**

"All That I Know Is I'm Breathing" is from _Keep Breathing_ by Ingrid Michaelson.

I feel like I am annoying if I keep putting R&R appreciated, even though it _really is_. So if it's annoying, just let me know :3

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Chapter 7: All That I Know Is I'm Breathing

_January 25, 1960_

_Will,_

_Please stop apologizing for missing out on things. It's nowhere near your fault, and I wish you would stop taking the blame for this. You did not choose to leave and you did not choose to miss the holidays and birthdays. I don't blame you, so there's honestly no need for you to apologize for any of it, okay?_

_I'm alright, yes. You shouldn't be worrying about me, though. You've got a million other things to worry about, such as watching your back and Carl's. It's such a relief to get your letter after such a long amount of time. I get a bit more worried than I should be when it comes to you. I am fully aware that you don't have all the time in the world to sit and write letters, and I tell myself that, but it's so hard to remember sometimes. My mind likes it go to the worst possible place as terrible as that may be. Mind games are awful for me, but they must be worse for you. I've tried to put myself in your shoes, Will. I've tried to imagine what you must be going through, but I just can't. It upsets me too much. I wish you weren't going through this; I wish loving me was enough for you, too. I'm so sorry that it's not._

_Let me tell you something as well, Will Schuester. I have one __**amazing**__ best friend as well. He's also so brave and doing something brilliant at the moment, whether he realizes it or not. He's got a ton of people who care for him and are rooting for him to come home – including his girlfriend's father._

_Speaking of friends, I've made a new one. Her name's Shannon Beiste. They moved in across the street a few weeks after school started. I went over and met her at my Dad's insistence that a new friend may keep my mind off of missing you too much. I'm so glad he suggested I go to meet her, Will. She's amazing and so funny. You should see this girl eat – she eats literally a whole chicken for lunch. It's so fascinating to me. We're in a few classes together as well, so that's really helpful at keeping my mind busy. We've got so much going on, and I've just taken my SAT last weekend. I'm really hoping that I did well enough to get into Columbia or Dartmouth, maybe even NYU. I know that NYU is where you were going to go, so I figured maybe I could get in and then when you get home, we'll go to NYU together. We'll be learning together and making up for the time that we missed while you've been away. I think it's a beautiful dream of us, if I may say so. There's more to the dream, of course, it goes on passed college, but I just want you to know that there is a dream and a plan forming in my head. I'm not just going to let you go the minute you get back and I see that you're okay. If anything it's going to make me hold onto you tighter. It's true what you're saying about not truly knowing and appreciating what you have until it's taken away from you. I'm experiencing exactly the same type of realization._

_Along with that realization came the realization that if I ever lost you for good, Will, I wouldn't be able to cope. So please, for the love of everything that is sacred in this crazy world, don't give up. Don't ever give up on me, or on yourself. Sometimes, surrender is just as bad as and possibly worse than the act of actually losing. I can't lose you, so don't give up. Please, Will. I am asking you to make me another promise. Promise you won't ever give up on me. Ever. I love you too much to let you give up._

_I know that you want to hear about my holiday, but it wasn't much. Mom and Dad still had Clarissa over, but she's been a bit under the weather. She's okay, don't worry, she just had a cold and wasn't feeling very well on Christmas day. She and I exchanged gifts – I gave her the usual yearly charm for the bracelet you got her when we were younger, and she gave me a necklace that symbolizes by birth sign. She always finds the most creative things! New Years was amazing, though. McKinley Marching Band was hired by the mayor this year to play the music that the fireworks are choreographed to. I know we joke each year that it can't get any better, but this year, it truly could not get any better! I am telling you it was amazing and I wish I could capture the moment and send it to you. You would have loved it._

_Other than that, the only major thing happening is prom coming up in April, which they are already planning for. It's crazy the amount of decorations they've already got filling up the choir room. Apparently, it's now doubling as a storage space as well. I know it's sort of lame, but I joined the prom committee. We worked out a theme – Van Gogh's "Starry Night" – and I'm actually really excited to be a part of something school related. I almost feel like you being here was keeping me in a bubble of sorts. I'm in no way saying that it was a bad thing, because it wasn't, but I feel like my mom was right. I let you become the center of my world, partly because I was enamored with you and partly because you were the only person who gave me the time of day without throwing something at me or making fun of me. I miss you being the center of me Solar System. I don't mind being Mercury circling closely around you, but it's nice being a comet for a while, flashing quickly by in a spark of brilliance. It'll be nice to have my Sun back, though. It's not as warm without you here, and I do need that center of gravity to keep me grounded when things get too crazy. You're my center._

_I should get going. I've got dinner with Grandma Clarissa tonight. I'll tell her hello for you and that you love her. I miss you. I love you, Will. _

_Waiting For Your Return,_

_Emma_

_P.S. Daddy says 'Go get 'em, boy! Keep strong and carry on!' Oh, Dad…_

Will sat staring at the letter before him, chewing his lip gently. Next to the letter was a sheet of paper and a pencil, ready and waiting for him to reply to Emma, but no matter how badly he tried to read her words on the page, he couldn't. He couldn't focus long enough to read and comprehend them.

His heart was still racing, though hours had passed from the encounter. His injuries were all bandaged up and he was slowly on the mend, but even if skin was healing, you couldn't heal the scar from watching someone die in front of you. It wasn't like this was the first time Will and Carl had witnessed someone die, but it was the first time they'd witnessed one of their own men die. Something like that definitely changed a person. It could have been him. That is all that he could think about. It could have been him. He easily could have been the one to get the worst of the blow, and he'd be gone. That wasn't his first near-death experience, but it was the closest that he had ever been to greeting death.

So why was it so damn hard to write back to Emma? She was all he could think about the rest of the way to their next camp. She was the only thing going through his mind besides his grandmother, so why on Earth was it so damn hard to respond to her letter and tell her that he loved her? He was sure part of it had to do with the fact that it wasn't enough for him, just writing to her. He _needed _his best friend to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, just like she had when his mother died. It wasn't enough just to write to her and tell her that he loves her with everything because loving her isn't good enough anymore. There has to be more. There needed to be more, and he finally admitted to himself that there might not be more.

Ever since leaving Lima, Will always had a positive attitude and was very upbeat about this whole ordeal. He promised Emma that he'd be home as if it were as easy as promising to meet up with her after school. He repeatedly told her in his letters that he loved her and he'd be home and he was fighting for her, but that wasn't enough anymore. It wasn't going to cut it anymore because he could sit and promise until he was blue in the face but he knew it wouldn't be any use at all. It took watching someone he knew dying before he could finally accept that he might not be leaving here completely whole and put together. Physically or mentally, part of him would be left behind him when he went back home; he just didn't know how big that part of him would be.

Will sat back against the wall and ran his hand over his face, thinking about Emma. What did he want to tell her? She had to know about tonight, even though he never told her anything that ever happened to him. He felt like he had to find a new way to explain to her just how much he loved her and show her that no matter what, he wasn't going anywhere. The idea of proposing to her crossed his mind a few times, but he kept pushing it away, attempting to think of a better way. Emma was so sweet and perfect that she deserved a perfect, romantic proposal, no matter who the man was asking her to marry him. The thought of someone else marrying Emma bothered him greatly. She could be back in Lima right now with some other guys fawning over her, and there was nothing Will could do about it because he wasn't even on the same continent.

Was that fair though? Emma could probably have any guy that she wanted. She was smart, beautiful, funny, and she wasn't aware of what her best qualities which just made her all the more attractive. Sure, she wanted to date Will now, but would it be fair to tie her down or ask her to tie herself down to him, when she may change her mind in the future? She was only seventeen; she might not even know what she wants.

Too many what ifs were going through Will's head. He needed to just bite the bullet and do it. The worst thing that could happen is she says no and they…they what? They were boyfriend and girlfriend. Saying no to a proposal could ruin that and then he'd really feel like he was alone.

Eventually, Will decided he had to just suck it up and do it. He needed to write her a letter and tell her everything, tell her he loved her, ask her to marry him and let the chips fall where they may. If she said no, then they would go on with their lives. He'd return from the war and see if there was any way they could still be together and if not, then he'd go to NYU like he planned and try to move on without her. Once he'd come to that decision, he'd realized that he was making this way harder on himself than it had to be.

Pulling the paper towards himself, he started writing a response to Emma, being as plain and honest about the events as he knew she would be able to handle. He didn't want to frighten her, but he did want to let her know what was going on. He knew that she was tougher than she appeared; she'd gone through enough to be strong. Will just couldn't bring himself to stop looking at her like the fragile, beautiful person he met when he was nine years old, or the girl who only let him see her cry when she was hurting.

_Kids at school had been at it again, and just two weeks into her high school experience, Emma was getting the worst of the teasing. Her books were taken and hidden at lunch multiple times and the seniors had instituted a new form of tormenting the underclassmen: snowing. Some kid got the idea one day to start throwing snow cones at them for no reason. Will had no idea why Emma was the main target of this treatment, but he guessed it was because she was so tiny and innocent looking. Will felt awful that Emma was being treated so badly because he'd spent all summer telling her all the ways high school was amazing and how much fun it would be to go to the same school together again. _

_The first time Emma got a snow cone thrown into her face, she stood stock-still, adjusting to the temperature of the ice against her warm skin. She'd taken a deep breath and marched straight to the bathroom to clean herself off. Her reaction surprised Will, but he figured that it was a one-time thing and she handled it really well. Most of the time, bullies only continued bullying if they got a reaction out of you, but that wasn't the case. The smaller the reaction Emma gave them, the worse she got it. Still, no matter how many times her books were taken, no matter how many times she was teased or talked about, and no matter how many cups of frozen ice were thrown in her face, Emma never retaliated. She stood tall, walked to the bathroom, and cleaned herself up. She was halfway through her third week of school and the torment had doubled by the time Will realized that she actually was bothered by everything that happened to her._

_Will walked to the track at lunch, planning to take a walk and go through his lines for the school play in his head. He had to have them down by the following afternoon and he was struggling with a few places in the script. He'd passed by the bleachers and heard a small squeak, causing him to stop and take a few steps back. He looked underneath them and saw the unmistakably red head of his best friend nestled against her knees. Frowning, he walked over to her and crouched down._

"_Em?"_

_Emma cleared her throat and sniffled, brushing her cheeks dry quickly, not wanting to be caught crying. "Will! Hi!" She forced a smile and stood, dusting herself off._

_Will looked at Emma and shook his head. Her eyes were red and the tear tracks were still plain on her cheeks. He reached forward and hugged her gently. "What's wrong, Emma?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_I have known you since you were seven years old. I know you well enough to know when something is the matter. What's wrong?"_

_His friend let out a small noise, tears starting to come again. "A-all summer, you said high school would be f-fun. It's not and I'm…I'm not okay."_

"_You're not?" Will was slightly surprised; she handled everything so well, it never crossed his mind that she'd be faking it._

"_N-no! How can I be okay with frozen drinks in my fa-ace and stolen b-books and teasing non-stop?"_

"_You act like it's no big deal, though."_

_Emma sniffled and pulled away, wiping away her tears again, "I don't want people to know that I'm hurt. I don't want you to know that I'm hurt."_

"_But I'm supposed to protect you. I need to know when you're hurt, Em," he looked at her with a sad expression, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders._

"_Will, I'm not seven anymore. It's not cute for you to protect me and you've got friends who would agree that you protecting me isn't an option."_

"_So? I have friends who would say I'm lame, but I have a best friend who I don't want to see hurt and crying."_

_Emma smiled at him a little and nodded, "You're the only person I let see me cry."_

_Will nodded and hugged her again, kissing the top of her head gently. "I know. It's because I'm your protector."_

It was because he had the need to protect her that he said the near-death experience happened a few nights ago, rather than a few hours. He didn't want to lie, but something gave him the feeling it would be easier for her to digest if it sounded like he wrote it a bit after the fact and was all better from the experience.

Most of the time, writing to Emma took Will about half an hour at the maximum. He was just writing down everything that he could as fast as it came to his mind. This one, however, had to be different and it took him a couple of hours. It was most of the time he had to sleep, but he didn't care. Getting this to Emma was more important.

By the time the letter was completed and ready to mail, the sun was coming up and Will knew it would only be a couple of hours before he and Carl had to get up and moving. Injured or not, they had work to get done.


	8. Bombs Are Falling Everywhere

**A/N:** And I bring you Chapter 8! :D Chapters 9 and 10 should be posted momentarily. R&R is lovely and always so appreciated! Thank you all for keeping me motivated to keep writing this story! -Tayma_  
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"Bombs Are Falling Everywhere; It's Heartbreak Warfare" from _Heartbreak Warfare_ by John Mayer

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Chapter 8: Bombs Are Falling Everywhere; It's Heartbreak Warfare

_August 25, 1960_

_Emma,_

_This letter is…I – this letter is going to be different. My other letters, I've been trying not to tell you details, trying to get you to focus on you more than me. I've wanted you to tell me everything about you to keep my own mind off of me and the things that are going on over here. This letter is different. This letter, I have to tell you things that are going on over here._

_Emma, I almost died a couple of nights ago._

_We were close to getting back to camp; it was extremely late at night. The moon was shining bright enough, though, that we could see and the sky was eerily clear. I kept looking up at the stars while we were walking, feeling in awe that something so beautiful could exist while everything going on around us is complete shit. If I tried to describe the sheer perfection that was the sky to you, Emma, I don't think I could. Let me put it this way: it was like you were split into a billion pieces and scattered across the dark canvas above us, like you were reflected down on us and watching over us. It was…it was too perfect. I feel like that should have been a sign. Sure, we'd had close calls before and we'd almost died before, but this was literally the __**closest**__ I have ever come to facing death head on._

_About half a mile out from camp, Carl and I met up with a few other buddies from our group back in California. They were on their way to the camp as well, and we decided it would be best to team up. Four pairs of eyes would be better than two and we'd be able to see more; watch more area and keep all of our backs safe. The closer we got to camp, the quieter it got. It was almost suffocating under the stars, and we were all starting to let our guards down when it happened._

_Out of nowhere, there was this massive explosion so loud and so powerful. Somehow, we all missed that someone was following us, maybe more person than one, and they were hidden well in the surrounding bushes. To put a long story short, the explosion went off right in front of one of the guys with us and killed him on the spot. Carl and I were both injured, and we don't know what happened to the other guy. He seemed okay, but he started walking back the way we came from. I know we're supposed to be a team and keep each other's backs, Emma, but I couldn't. I couldn't go after him and risk getting hit or ambushed again. Carl and I both suffered injuries, and we figured the best thing to do would be to get to camp and get help so we could get everything squared away and make sure we made it out of here. _

_What my injuries are don't matter, Emma. I know you're going to ask, but they don't matter. What matters is that I almost died, and the only thing that crossed my mind was 'If I die, I can't go back to Emma and my Grandmother.' You two were the only things in my mind the whole rest of the way to camp. Your picture's a little ruined now; I held it too tightly in my hand on the walk back, but it was all I had to hold on to._

_Emma, I need to ask you something. It's serious, and I know it's crazy, but war is crazy, and it's possible that by the time I get out of here, I'm going to be crazy or broken or both. And I know I'm going to need you when I get back. I'm going to need you to hold on to. Emma, I want you to marry me. Please. When I get home, will you please marry me?_

_Yes, it's crazy and I'll bet you're staring at this paper right now, unsure of what to think or feel because you're so precise and you have a plan. You always have a plan and I know that you've got your life planned out to the final detail up to the age of twenty-eight, but I am asking you to please alter that plan. I know we were actually able to be boyfriend and girlfriend in person for only six hours, but we've been officially together now for a year and I've known you for eleven years and loved you for that long, before I even knew what love was. I thought I knew how much you meant to me, and I thought I knew how much I missed you and needed you before all of this happened, before I was drafted and before we were dating. Before everything, I thought I had a grasp on that, and Emma, I didn't. But now I do._

_Mister Pillsbury, hopefully, Emma's let you read this, and I am sorry I can't be proper and ask you for her hand and do all the crazy romantic things that I know she deserves. Though I think this is pretty romantic if you ask me – a proposal from halfway around the world. So I ask your blessing, and I ask you, Emma, please. I love you and I appreciate you, and I wish that I had realized that sooner than I have. Will you marry me?_

_I love you always._

_Your Traveling Soldier_

Emma looked down at the letter in her hands, her mouth gaping. She'd been so excited to see Will's letter when she got home from school that she ran up to her room to read it. She'd been missing him a lot in the past few weeks and she'd been longing to hear from him. Now that she was reading this letter, though, she wasn't sure whether to feel excited or dread.

He'd almost died. That sentence alone took her a good five minutes to process. The idea of a world without Will in it sickened her and the fact that he was so close to that fate made her dizzy. She couldn't believe that he'd actually been hurt while he was over there. The whole time he had been away, crazy ideas and possibilities ran through her head, but she always told herself to stop being ridiculous, that he was okay. But he wasn't okay and the things she thought she was crazy for thinking about actually did happen, and he was openly acknowledging that fact to her. It scared her more than anything.

More than almost anything.

Marriage right out of high school scared her just as much. Hadn't she made it clear to Chris that she didn't want to get married right out of high school? She wasn't her mother and Emma didn't want to be anything like her. This was Will, though. It wasn't just some random guy. It was her best friend – her boyfriend. She'd thought of the possibility of them being together before, sure, but where they even ready for that? She didn't think so. They'd only been on seven dates and were boyfriend and girlfriend in person for a total of six hours before he left. Surely that wasn't enough to bas a marriage off of. Six hours was nothing. At least that was what she kept telling herself. They weren't ready and she didn't want to be like her mother. Six hours was nothing. Eleven years, though…

Emma stood, swallowing and walking out of her room. She headed downstairs to her father's den, knocking on the door gently.

"Daddy?" She asked, opening the door a bit and sticking her head in.

Rusty looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. He waved her in and placed a marker in the book, closing it and setting it on his lap. "Hey, honey. How's it going?"

Holding the letter out in front of her, Emma stepped into the room, closing the door behind herself. She walked hesitantly towards her father, letter still held out to him.

"From Will," Emma said, sitting next to her father on his small couch.

Looking a little confused, Rusty took the letter from his daughter and began reading it. The pair fell silent as the older man read through the letter, his eyebrows rising in surprise as his eyes scanned the page. He read through the letter a few more times, nodding. He'd watched Will and Emma grow up together and he saw how Will was around her. No boy was as sweet and gentle with Emma aside from Christopher. No boy watched after her and befriended her when nobody else would and certainly no boy looked at Emma like she was the most cherished being on this planet. There weren't many boys who would look at any girl the way Will looked at Emma. It was slightly humorous in Rusty's mind, having figured this would be the way the pair ended up long before either of them realized that their friendship was based off of something much deeper.

Smiling, Rusty cleared his throat and held the letter back out to Emma. "He has it."

"He what?"

"My blessing. He has it. Tell that boy yes."

Emma swallowed, taking the letter from him, her eyes moving to meet her father's. She chewed her lip momentarily, processing his words, her head shaking gently.

"B-but I don't – I don't want," Emma's head kept shaking, her eyes locked on her father's, "I want to go to school. I don't…I'm not Mom."

She looked nervous and terrified, and Rusty was having a hard time deciphering whether she was more worried about Will dying or Will becoming her husband. If there was anything Rusty could say about his beautiful daughter, it was that Emma was a very level-headed individual; more than most every girl her age. She was also very independent and strong minded. Emma knew what she wanted. Just before her sixteenth birthday, he found her in the garage with quite a bit of her life planned out.

_Emma stood in the garage, a large piece of cardboard leaning up against the wall in front of her. There was a timeline of sorts drawn on the board, filling up with words and dates. Emma stood a few feet away, evaluating her work, a marker held in her right hand, her left hand tapping her chin gently. _

_Unbeknownst to Emma, Rusty had been standing in the doorway of the garage for the better part of an hour, watching her. He wondered what could be going on in his child's head, and her little outbursts weren't much help, either. They mainly consisted of "No, that won't work, but maybe…" and "Ugh, but what about Will? Should that even be factored?" After a few minutes of watching her evaluate her work, Rusty cleared his throat, causing Emma to jump. She whipped around, her hand flying to her heart._

"_Daddy, you just about scared me to death!"_

_Rusty chuckled, stepping towards her and gesturing at the cardboard. "What, may I ask, are you doing Emma Roxanne?"_

"_Oh. I've just been planning my future. I've got it all figured out!" Emma looked at her father, proudly gesturing towards the timeline._

"_Is that so?"_

"_Yes. Okay, so I'm in high school now, _but _I'll graduate in 1961. Now, assuming that I can get into school and study psychology like I want to at NYU or Columbia, that puts me in school for another five years or so, so you figure I'll be out of school around 1966 at twenty-three. From there, if I am determined – which I will be – then I can get a steady job by the age of twenty-four at the latest. Hopefully being a counselor or something like that. Once I've worked for a couple of years, then I can find someone to marry and settle down with, maybe get a house and have a few kids, but not until I am twenty-eight at the earliest because I have to make sure that I am taken care of first."_

_Rusty stared at his daughter as she spoke, honestly impressed. It was clear that she had different ideas of what she should be doing compared to what society told her she should be doing, but that made the plan all the more impressive. He stared at the cardboard in front of them and nodded, looking at her. _

"_I'm very impressed, Emma. I really am. But…you kept vocalizing worries about Will. Where does he fit into this?" He raised an eyebrow._

"_Well, he does and he doesn't. I mean, if we both get into NYU, then he'll be factored in more. Chris said he bets one day I'll marry Will – which I doubt because we're just friends – but I didn't know if I should factor him in or not. So I just decided not to. If he becomes a part of the future, then I will fit him into this plan."_

"_Do you think he'll be a part of your future?" Rusty smirked, having his own answer to the question._

_Emma shrugged, "Why wouldn't he be? He's my best friend. Besides, there's no thinking. This is it. This is my plan and I will follow it strictly. I know what I want and this is it."_

It was clear that for someone who knew exactly what she wanted for the next twelve years of her life, Emma had no idea what she wanted in this situation. She wanted her future that she'd planned out and Will was throwing a wrench in that plan. Rusty could see the wheels turning in his daughter's head.

"Emma, marrying Will or saying you'll marry him doesn't make you your mother."

"Dad, I have a plan, though. You know the plan. This isn't supposed to happen for another ten years and even then I didn't think Will would be the one doing it. I just don't know, you know?" Her eyebrows furrowed and her voice got tight, trying to hold back panicky tears.

Rusty extended a tender hand towards his daughter, stroking her hair gently in an attempt to calm her down. He could see that she was on the verge of one of her panic attacks.

"Okay, sweetie. I'm going to help you figure this out," he paused, glancing at the letter, then back at Emma, "Do you care about Will?"

Emma sat taking deep breaths, focusing on the motion of her dad's hand on her hair. She nodded, swallowing. "Y-yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Mhm."

"Is this really about not being like Mom?"

Emma looked up at him, shaking her head slightly. "N-no."

Rusty nodded. He'd figured not.

"What's stopping you, then?"

Emma took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "It's…he almost died, Dad. He almost died and now he's asking me to marry him, and I don't want to say no because I've considered him marrying me before, but...but what if I say yes and he gets really hurt or what if I say yes and he dies or comes home and decides he doesn't want to marry me? What if when all is said and done, Mom's right and he doesn't love me, he just says what he says because he'll never have to act on it?"

"He's not just saying that and you know that as well as I do," Rusty said, leaning to kiss Emma's head, "Don't listen to your mother. She's just afraid that you're going to get in too deep and get hurt. But I know this boy and I have seen him around you for almost your entire life. He's not just saying these things. Would I give him my blessing if I thought he was?"

"No…"

"No. I wouldn't. However, I _am _and that should tell you something. I trust him with my little Emmiebear."

Emma nodded and bit her lip. "So tell him yes?"

"If that is what you want to do, then say yes. Read the letter a few more times, Emma. He loves you. It's just up to you whether you're going to listen to your mother, or actually accept his word for it."

Rusty kissed Emma's head again and stood, looking at the time, "Well I have to get down to the office for a meeting. We'll talk later tonight and you can tell me what you decide. I love you, kid."

"I love you, too, Daddy. Thanks." Emma smiled and watched her father walk out of the room, sitting back against the couch and reading the letter through for the umpteenth time.

xXx

Later that night, Rusty entered the house quietly, worn out from a long meeting at the bank. He dropped his briefcase by the door and closed it behind himself, locking it. Toeing off his shoes, he removed his coat and hung it by the door before padding to the kitchen. The house was dark save for a faint light in the kitchen, making Rusty pause. Usually by this time everyone was in bed – his wife included. Moving closer to the kitchen, he heard a whispered voice and stopped just outside of the entry to the kitchen, recognizing Emma's voice. Only able to hear on half of the conversation, he quickly realized she was on the phone.

"Shannon, I just don't know what to do…" she was whispering into the phone, sitting in the corner of the kitchen, "Well….no, but that's the thing we're just kids, still. Or, I am…he's almost twenty by now…yes, Shannon, I know I'm almost eighteen, but is that stupid to do? Okay, I know I always talk about him, but – yes, but – okay…"

Emma fell silent for a few minutes and Rusty waited, wondering if she was finished on the phone or not. He was just about to enter the room when she started up again.

"I guess you're right. I _do _love him, though, and that's what scares me the most is that now we both know how much we care about the other and what if it ends up badly? You're right it could end up brilliantly…" She laughed a little, coughing to cover it up, "Shannon, my mother may be the Wicked Witch of the West, but she's still my mother…okay. Okay! I'll do it! Yes, I'll tell him yes," Emma giggled again and sighed, "Alright, yes. I will tell him my other best friend gives her blessing as well…okay. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch. Yeah. Bye."

Rusty heard the phone hang up and he stepped into the kitchen, "So if your mother's the Wicked Witch does that make me the Wizard?"

Emma gasped, jumping a good few inches in the air, not expecting to see her father enter the kitchen. Her already large eyes widened and she stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

"I – I didn't mean…"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear it since I shouldn't have heard any of that. But I hear you're going to say yes to our William?" Rusty asked, moving to get a snack out of the fridge.

"Yes. You and Shannon both said some things to help me realize he's what I want. He's the only person I would ever change my plan for to make sure he fit into it. I've said that from the beginning. That fact alone should have given me my answer."

"I'm proud of you for realizing that, Emma. I don't think you'll regret it at all." Rusty walked over to the table and sat down with a bowl of leftover salad in front of him.

"Dad, can I ask you something? Why are you pushing so hard for me to say yes?"

"I know you won't ever find anyone like Will who will care for you like he does."

Emma nodded, satisfied with his explanation and walked over, kissing his head. "Thanks, Daddy. I've got a letter to write. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

Walking out of the kitchen, Emma ascended the stairs to her room, closing the door behind herself. She walked over to her desk and sat down in the chair, sighing. She pulled out some paper and a pen, writing the date on the upper left-hand corner. She stared at the paper for a moment and sighed. "Now how does one accept a proposal?" She asked herself, thinking for a few minutes before setting pen to paper.


	9. But Darling You Are the Only Exception

**A/N_: _**"But Darling You Are the Only Exception" from _The Only Exception _by Paramore

Here is chapter 9! I am quickly working on Chapter 11 because as I write this, I just keep thinking "Dear Lord, this is getting so close," as I do have the final chapter already written, so I'm eagerly trying to fill you all in before we get to the end. R&R = 3 forever! haha. -Tayma :3

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_September 19, 1960_

_Will,_

_I don't think I realized until your last letter just how serious things are over there. I wouldn't let myself accept what you've been doing over there, the possibility that you actually could die out there. It's so hard to let myself feel that, you know? The thought of not having you in my life for the rest of eternity breaks my heart. I kept thinking that I could ignore that possibility, even when it would creep into my mind because you've been okay and you've been safe and you're alive. But you almost died, and I don't know how to handle that. I keep crying as I write this, both out of fear that you could leave me so easily and from relief that you're okay and able to write this letter to me. Hopefully you're still going to be alive by the time you get this letter to read my answer to your question._

_Yes, Will. Oh my god, yes, I will marry you when you get home. As soon as possible. Forget about that stupid plan and being so organized that it kills me to think that my future could change. You can alter my plan as often and as much as you want to if it means that I get to keep you with me forever. I can't lose you, and I can't let you come home and pretend that eleven years of so much caring means nothing. It means something to me, Will. It means everything to me – you mean everything to me and I need you._

_I wish I was the stars. I was so stupid to say that I didn't mind being the comet, that it was nice for once. I was so stupid to say that and I am so sorry I did. God, I almost got you killed because I was being stupid and careless in the things that I said. If I could be the stars, Will, I would. I would make sure that nothing happens to you. I wish I could protect you. _

_Please tell me you know how much I love you, Will. If…if something ever happened to you, I need you to know how much I love you and maybe I haven't been clear enough in telling you so. I should have told you sooner, I wish I had told you sooner. There's so much I wish I could go back and change. If I had told you earlier about my feelings maybe we would have had more time together here so I could show you how much I care about you, rather than watching you march off to war without having told you. I know without a doubt that I wouldn't be able to handle it if something ever happened to you, but I would hate myself forever if you didn't know just how much I love you._

_When you get home, we're going to get married and I am going to make sure you know for the rest of eternity just how loved you are. You're so loved. I'm never going to let you go. It's a blessing to have you in my life, Will, and I thought I knew how much of a blessing you are. I thought I knew how lucky I am to call you my best friend and my boyfriend, but I had no concept. I'm sure you realize how close I was to having you ripped away from me; how close Clarissa was to having another son of hers ripped away from her. I never realized it. I never let myself feel the possibility, the feeling that the tether between myself and the person I'm closest with could be fraying. Now I have to and it scares me. I'm scared for you. Not worried or nervous, but scared. Terrified. I cannot stress this enough, Will. I __**need**__ you to be safe for me. I need you to live. Your letter's only given me a shadow of what is possibly to come and I can't handle it. _

_Dad's asked me to write in a little note from him. I told him I would, since you directly mentioned him in your letter. He says. 'William. There's nobody else I'd trust with my Emma. You come home safe and make her happy, just like I know she'll do for you. You've got all the blessings you need. I'm praying for you, kid.'_

_I agree with him, Will. There's nobody else that I would trust with my heart, either. There's nobody else that I would ever change everything for – you are the only exception I would ever make. I know that you'll love me and care for me the same way that I would for you. Nothing is ever going to change that, I know. I was grateful to be your best friend and proud to be your girlfriend. I'm honoured to now call myself your fiancée and call you mine. I can't wait to see you again._

_I love you, Will. Please be safe. Come home soon._

_Love Always and Forever,_

_Emma_

Will carried Emma's letter in his breast pocket with her picture. He had the woman who held his heart protecting it as well, and just the thought of her being his fiancée of all things made him crazy with happiness.

After receiving her response, Will looked at everything completely differently. Yes he was in danger and things were starting to get scarier and harder, but he had an even more solid reason to go back home. He was going home to get _married_. He was going to make Emma his wife. Nothing else could make him feel more confident.

Marching into camp in the spring of 1961, Will and Carl were tired and ragged. They'd been trekking to get to this camp for months, getting lost more times than one out in the wilderness, but they'd finally made it to a somewhat safe haven. Nowhere was completely safe, but finding your camp was as safe as it got out there. They checked in at the gates and walked through, thankful to have somewhere to rest for a few hours before they moved forward. They were so close to completing their assignment. Two years away from home felt like an eternity, but it was doable.

Will and Carl had only been at their cots for a couple of hours when an officer approached them with news that they'd be getting sent home in the next couple of months. No specific date was given, but they were told they'd be shipped back to Ohio come the last week of May or the first week of June. They were to stay at the camp and work from there, going on mini missions together rather than going from camp to camp with new assignments.

Carl was stunned that he would be able to make it home alive. He was prepared from day one to die away from home. He came to terms with that the moment he received a letter of notification that he'd been drafted to go fight in the war. But he would be going home. The very idea shocked him.

Will was so relieved he started crying. He didn't give a single care that he'd just been through the hardest two years of his life and therefore should be tougher. He didn't care that other soldiers kept looking at him. He was going to go home to Emma; there was no question about it now. He only had mini missions to go on daily and then he would return to safety and that would be it. Only Carl understood the reason behind Will's seemingly endless supply of tears. He sat next to his buddy in silence, staring at the wall across from them. He'd listened to Will talk about Emma and his dreams for their future for the past two years. He understood better than anyone what this meant to Will that he would be able to get home.

When tears subsided, Will looked at Carl and gave him a smile. "Thanks, man. You've been great."

"Hey, bro. We're teammates. You get lost, I get lost. You get hurt, I get hurt. You cry, I sit next to you while you do with no judgment." Carl reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded, worn sheet of paper, "Here, man. I don't need this anymore."

"No, hold onto it," Will said, shaking his head, "You never know. Give it back when we get home."

Carl looked at him for a moment and nodded, "Alright, if you say so. So why are you sitting here?"

Will looked at Carl, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You've got a fiancée waiting for you in Lima who gets to see you in a couple of months, and you're sitting here instead of writing her."

"You're right! Oh my God, I'm going to see Emma!"

"Yeah, you are!" Carl clapped his hand on Will's back, "Make sure she knows it!"

Will and Carl's relationship had become a closer friendship after they watched one of their friends die, way back whenever he proposed to Emma in a letter. They had a much better understanding of each other and Will was glad that Carl would be going home with him.

"_Do you think dying hurts?"_

_It was the middle of the night and pitch dark outside. It was almost impossible to see anything further than two or three inches away; Carl and Will were creeping through a patch of trees at a snail's pace, terrified of ambush._

"_What?"_

"_Do you think it hurts to die?"_

_Will furrowed his brow, thinking over Carl's words. He wondered why Carl was worried about dying; he seemed to welcome the idea. Then again, welcomed or not, it was a valid worry whether or not what you were welcoming would be painful or not._

"_I think it depends on how you die."_

"_I mean out here. Do you think it hurts to die out here?"_

"_I still think it depends. If you're in an explosion like Jones, then no I think it's instantaneous. If you're gunned down, it might be different depending on where you're hit and how long it takes to bleed out. Where's this coming from, man? You never worry about this stuff."_

_Carl was never the one worried about anything. Will was always the one freaking out about dying and leaving Emma and would she even miss him and whether or not it was better to die quickly out here or slowly at an old age. Usually, Carl was the one comforting Will's thoughts; it was weird having the roles reversed._

"_I don't know, man. After we watched Jones die, my mind's been messed up. Crazy shit keeps passing through it and I just keep wondering if it's going to hurt when I die here."_

_Will stopped walking and reached next to him, stopping Carl, too._

"_You're not going to die here."_

"_I told you I have nothing to go back for."_

"_Yeah, you don't, but I do. I'm your teammate and as long as you protect me, I protect you. You're not going to die here."_

_Carl sighed and started walking. Will let go of Carl's arm and started walking along with him. The pair was silent for a while, walking through the darkness, eyes wide and ears alert. This time it was Will who interrupted the silence._

"_You know how I proposed to Emma?"_

"_Yeah, you wouldn't shut up about it for like three days."_

_Will laughed a little, "If she says no, I won't make you go back to Ohio."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I mean if she says no, I have nothing to go back to Ohio for, either. We'll stay out here until the work is done, whether that means until the work is done with us and we're gone or until we've fought this war and won."_

_Carl cleared his throat, slightly nervous by Will's words. Why was he going to give up? He loved Emma so much even Carl could understand the level of its depth and yet he would let one word make him stop fighting to get home to her. _

"_She'll say yes."_

_Silence._

"_You don't know that."_

"_Eleven years. You and that damn number as your sign. Eleven this, eleven that, eleven years, man. She's going to say yes and you'll make it home for her graduation and you'll be fine. Stop whining."_

_Will laughed and looked towards him in the darkness, "I'll stop whining about missing my girlfriend if you stop asking if dying hurts."_

"_Deal."_

Will smiled and got up, moving to get some paper and a pencil. Carl was right – what was he doing crying when he should be hurrying to make sure Emma knows he'll be home in early June. He'd be able to keep her promise and be home for her graduation.

xXx

The months passed both so quickly and so slowly after the initial news that Will and Carl would be home by early June. Things seemed to be calming down around them and their mini missions weren't that difficult at all compared to the other things they had been assigned to do while away from home.

Two weeks before the boys were set to go home, they were being sent on one final mission. They were told it would be a bit more extensive than the others and that it would take up to a week to complete. The mission went really well at first. They would go out at dawn and come back at dusk each day to check in. They'd been sent to the enemy camp to keep tabs on what was going on, hiding in the bushes and making notes of everything that was going on. It was one of the last camps to be destroyed in order to end the war and Will and Carl were honored to be chosen to take part in the take down.

At least, they thought it was going well. While they were watching the other camp, they neglected to notice that there were men watching them. How could they know, though? They were hidden in the bushes and couldn't see anyone around anytime that they arrived to or departed from their stakeout spot.

They weren't just being watched when they were in stakeout, though. They were followed back to the camp. On the fifth night of the mission, they finally saw one of the men and he was gunned down on the spot by one of the guards, noticing Will and Carl being followed.

It was the final night of the mission that everything started going insanely wrong. Will and Carl were in position, ready to survey the area for one last night before reporting and helping formulate a final plan of attack, set to be put into action the next day. They were halfway through surveillance when some equipment started to malfunction. Will offered to take it back to camp and get replacements that would work better. It was against both of their better judgments to separate, but if they didn't do surveillance they couldn't destroy the camp. If they didn't have working equipment, they couldn't do full surveillance. Finally, Carl agreed that Will should go back to camp.

Years later, people would look back and say that they should have trusted their better judgment. Splitting up was the stupidest thing they could have done.


	10. There's A Light At the End

_**A/N:**_I know that this is a shorter chapter, but no worries. There are still four more chapters to come! :D _  
_

"There's A Light At the End of This Tunnel" from _Tunnel_ by Third Day

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Chapter 10: There's A Light At the End of This Tunnel

_March 21, 1961_

_My Beautiful, Beautiful Girl,_

_Don't cry, honey. I know it's frightening, and I am sure it's harder for you because you can't see me and hear from me all of the time, to be sure that I'm as safe as I am, and that you are, too. Please don't cry, though. I'm fine, Emma, and I am obviously alive and well enough to read your letter and write you a response. I'm so glad that you've said yes to me. I promise you, Emma, I am going to give you everything that you've ever wanted and more. I am going to take such good care of you. It means so much to me that you trust me like that, and it means even more to me that your father trusts me with you. Tell him I said thank you – his faith in me means the world to me._

_Emma, I want you to do something for me. I want you to think back to that last day that we spent together before I came out here. We were on the pier, and I held your face in my hands and I told you something. Do you remember what I said? I told you I wanted to come home to your graduation ceremony. I know that was a very risky thing to say, especially because the chances of me being home for your graduation, let alone home at all seemed like a slim chance. But it's just been confirmed that we're heading home in a couple of months! Emma, I'm finally coming home, and I'll be in time for your graduation. I'll get to see you walk across that stage in your beautiful gown._

_I can't wait to see you and Grandma Clarissa again and get back home to Lima. I know Lima doesn't seem that exciting but it sounds like such a beautiful haven compared to the past two years here. Sometimes, I feel like I'm going crazy from being here. Maybe I am. I really don't know one way or the other anymore after the things I have seen and the things that we've gone through. What I do know is that the knowledge that I'll be seeing you soon keeps me sane. I can't wait to hug you again, Emma, and hear your sweet little voice and cute little laugh. My world will finally be completed again._

_It may seem rushed, but I want to marry you as soon as I get home. We can leave right after your graduation and head out to Las Vegas and get married as soon as we possibly can. I've gone two whole years without you by my side and I don't want to spend any more time without you. _

_I have to go now. I won't be able to write you after this letter, and I don't know if I'll receive a response. Just know that the day you graduate, I'll be home, waiting for you. I love you more than I can say Emma. I'll see you soon, my beautiful, beautiful fiancée._

_Love,_

_Your Traveling Soldier_

_-x-_

_April 15, 1961_

_Will,_

_I AM SO EXCITED THAT YOU ARE COMING HOME! I already can't stop talking about it. Mom's actually told me I am not allowed to talk about it if she's in the room, and I've only known for a day now. I know you won't be able to respond to this, and maybe you won't even get this letter before you return home, but I am still going to send it on the off chance that you will get it._

_Getting married as soon as you get here is more than okay with me. I don't know if I'm ever going to let you out of my sight again. I've missed you so much, Will. I feel lighter, though, and less stressed now that I know you're set to come home. I'm crying, even though you think I shouldn't be. I am, but these are happy tears, I promise. We've all been so worried. Clarissa is through the roof! We're already planning dinner for your return. I ran to her house the moment I got your letter yesterday to tell her the exciting news. She's thrilled._

_I don't even know what to say except that I am so excited. I love you and I'll see you soon. So soon._

_Love,_

_Emma_


	11. This Is How An Angel Cries

**A/N: **So as it turns out, it was 3 more chapters. Not 4. So, I bring you the final three chapters of My Traveling Soldier. I plan to have a fluffy piece up sometime this week, probably after Tuesday's episode of Glee!(: -Tayma

"This is How an Angel Cries" from _Sail _by AWOLNATION.

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Chapter 11: This Is How An Angel Cries

"Emma Roxanne Pillsbury!"

Emma strode proudly across the stage to greet the man who would be handing her a diploma. She was wearing a red cap and gown and smiling from ear-to-ear. She couldn't believe that she had finally made it through high school and the past two years without her best friend. They'd been brutal, but none of that would matter after the awards ceremony.

She hadn't heard from Will since his letter announcing he would be returning home, nor had she seen him anywhere around Lima. Emma hadn't heard from Clarissa, either, but she just figured if Will was home, he wanted to spend time with his grandmother before he saw Emma. That was something she could completely understand. He just said he'd be home for her graduation; that didn't mean he had to sit through the ceremony.

Still, Emma couldn't help but repeatedly glance hopefully at the crowd, hoping maybe Will and Clarissa would be arriving late. She wanted him to see her get a diploma. She worked _so hard_ the past two years without him and she wanted him to be proud of her.

When she heard her name called, she walked across the stage proudly, accepting her diploma and accepting that Will wasn't in the crowd of people. It was okay. Christopher was there and that was just as good in her opinion. They were the two people who always supported her and made her feel confident. As she returned to her seat, she made a face at Shannon who made one back and laughed. The two girls were on top of the world in their opinions. Emma watched as all her other classmates received their diplomas, then as a group the whole class flipped their tassels from one side to the other and it was official. They were no longer high schoolers. At the ceremony's end, Emma found Shannon and they spoke excitedly for a few minutes before going to find their respective families. They planned on meeting up later that night so Emma could introduce her to Will before Shannon left for vacation tomorrow.

Upon finding her family, Emma was greeted with a loud whoop from her brother and a huge hug from her father.

"We're so proud of you, Emma," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Thank you, Daddy!" She beamed and looked at him, trying not to squirm from excitement that she would be going to see Will in a few minutes.

Rusty passed Emma off to Chris who hugged his sister and messed up her hair. Rose was the last and she smiled, running a hand over Emma's hair, "I'm proud of you, Emma."

Emma smiled at her mom and dad before finally letting out a sigh, "Okay I've been trying not to ask, but please can I go to Clarissa's and see Will?"

Her parents shared a look for a moment and Emma looked between them, confused. Had they changed their minds? Were they not going to let her go see him?

"Mom…I can go see Will, right?"

Chris rolled his eyes at his parents and looked at Emma, "Go before they stop you." He smiled widely and shooed her away. Emma kissed each of their cheeks and took off, running out of the gymnasium and out into the rain, her legs carrying her as fast as they could down the street from the school gymnasium, heading towards Clarissa and Will's house.

Reaching the front door of the Schuester residence, Emma knocked on the door excitedly, fixing her damp cap on her head. She had to rein her emotions in, feeling on the verge of exploding with excitement. When there was no answer, Emma knocked again, this time a bit louder, biting her lip. It took another minute or so before she heard the door unlocking then opening to reveal Clarissa standing before her. She looked like she'd been asleep all day and Emma worried that maybe she'd been ill and resting.

"Hi. I'm really sorry to just barge in over here because you look like you've been sleeping and I'm sorry if you were, but it's graduation and Will's letter said he would be back and I just really need to see him." Emma stared at Clarissa, a wide smile on her face, stepping through the door as Clarissa stepped aside for her.

The older woman closed the door behind them and cleared her throat, looking at Emma. Even wet from the rain, she was so beautiful in her cap and gown, and it was hard to believe the beautiful woman standing before her was the same shy little girl she'd met twelve years ago.

"Emma. Sweetie, I need to talk to you," Clarissa looked at her with an expression of sadness that Emma couldn't comprehend.

"Can I see Will first, please? Is he sleeping? I don't think he'll care if I wake him up."

Clarissa stepped forward towards Emma and placed her hands on either side of the girl's face. She looked into her eyes and shook her head, her eyes starting to tear up.

"Honey, Will's not home."

"What? But his letter said, Grandma. You saw it. He said that he'd be home on my graduation. We were going to go get married tomorrow." Her brow furrowed and she shook her head slightly, staring at Clarissa. She took in Clarissa's watery eyes and took a deep breath. "He'll be home later, right?"

Clarissa's head shook again. She looked at Emma with sorrow, knowing that she was about to shatter her world. As she spoke, her voice shook as she tried to hold back tears.

"Honey…Will's not coming home."

"N-now?"

"Not now."

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she processed the two words. Swallowing thickly, Emma whispered the three words she dreaded and answer to. "W-will he ever?"

All it took was a shake of Clarissa's head and a whispered, 'I'm sorry' for Emma to understand what Clarissa was saying. Emma's hand moved to cover her mouth and she shook her head, denying the truth. She stepped back away from Clarissa and cleared her throat, head still shaking determinedly.

"No, this – this isn't funny. He said he would be home. He promised me." Emma's lower lip began to tremble and her throat became tight as she fought back tears in her eyes.

"I know he did, Emma, and he promised me, too. B-but these sort of things…they aren't planned."

Clarissa watched as Emma's face crumpled and she started crying, standing in the middle of the foyer, her world being ripped away from her. Clarissa found out the information a few days prior and talked with Emma's parents, the three of them deciding it was in Emma's best interest to be left in the dark about this until after her graduation. There was no need to spoil her last week with Shannon as a kid with heartbreaking information. Clarissa had days to process this information, and while it was hard, she'd been able to come to terms with it. She would miss her grandson every single day for the rest of her life, but he died fighting. There was no nobler way to die in her opinion, and she was damn proud of him.

Stepping forward, Clarissa moved to hug Emma gently, but Emma stepped back, shaking her head.

"No. He's – he's not…" Emma turned and opened the front door, stepping outside. He wasn't at Clarissa's because he was at the pier. He had to be. He promised her that he would be there for her graduation, and maybe he wasn't at Clarissa's because he wanted to see her for the first time again in the same place he saw her for the last time. She took off towards the lake as fast as she could, not caring that it was pouring rain and ruining her cap and gown. None of that mattered when she needed to find Will.

The rain in Lima was relentless, coming harder the closer she got to the pier. She reached the pier quickly, slowing when she arrived and he wasn't there. Her lip trembled and new tears started falling, mixing in with the rain on her face. Walking to the edge of it, Emma stood dejectedly facing the lake. Each new rain drop fell into the lake water, creating a small depression and a constant plopping noise that seemed to match the swift rhythm of her rapidly beating heart. A combination of tears and rain ran down her face, her mascara following the trails down to her chin. Emma's robe was soaked through from water, her mortar board cap now limp from the unwelcome moisture. Her tassel hung dripping by her face and she let out a sob, gasping when the noise painfully ripped open a hole in her heart. She heard footsteps on the wooden platform behind her. Her first thought was _Maybe it's Will_, but hope was lost as she whipped around, soaking wet ribbons of hair flying and sticking to her face. Her eyes fell upon her older brother who was standing a few feet away from her, his own ginger hair wet and matted to his forehead, his clothes soaked through from running after her.

"Emma…" He looked at her pityingly, his forehead wrinkled as he took in the appearance of his baby sister. After Emma took off from the gymnasium, Rose and Rusty told Chris the news they were told nights earlier. He yelled at his parents for keeping something like that from Emma, especially when they knew what was supposed to happen after her graduation was over. He didn't understand how they could know for days that their daughter's fiancé was dead and keep that information from her.

Emma let out a sob and shook her head, her face crumpling as she looked up at the sky, staring at the clouds that she felt would now follow her always.

"I stood right here." Her voice was weak and broken as new tears formed in her eyes, her finger pointing at her very spot. "Right here, Chris."

Her brother shook his head. "What do you mean, Emma?"

Another sob broke through the wall she was trying to put up in an attempt to hold them all in her chest. Each sob just hurt more.

"I stood…r-right…here. He told m-me, he'd be back for my graduation. He p-promised."

"Emma," Chris took a step forward. "Emma, he had no idea. He had no clue what he was getting into; no clue that this would happen."

"No. No! I stood right here! I stood here and looked Will in the eye and he promised me! He's supposed to take care of me, Christopher! He's – and I – I stood right _here._" Finally, the flood broke through and Emma started sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. Her hands came to rest over the center of her chest and she gripped onto her graduation gown, needing something to hold onto.

Christopher walked over to his sister, his arms wrapping around her as his heart began to break for her. "Shh, Emma. Shh, you're going to be okay." He reached up and pulled the limp cap from her head, pulling her closer to him and holding her tightly. His eyes closed and his head came to rest on hers, his lips finding the side of her wet hair momentarily.

Emma didn't fight Chris's arms around her, instead welcoming them as support and she fell against her brother, repeating the same four words over and over. _I stood right here. I stood right here. I stood right here._ In that moment, they were the four most important words that existed. They were the four words that were holding her together and tearing her apart at the same time. Will had never broken a promise to her in their entire lives together. Twelve years and not one promise broken; why did his life have to be the promise to ruin that streak? What did she do that meant her boyfriend – no, forget boyfriend, fiancé, whatever they planned to be when he got home. Her _best friend_ who took care of her and who she depended on so greatly; what did she do that meant he had to be taken from her?

After some time, Chris looked down at his sister. She'd calmed down considerably and her determined 'I stood right _here_' had suddenly become faint mumbles, more reassuring herself than clarifying to the outside world. The rain wasn't letting up any, but evening was drawing nearer and the temperature was dropping further.

"Emma? We need to get home."

She shook her head, her eyes locking on the top button of his shirt.

"Yes, it's cold. You'll catch cold."

Again, Emma shook her head. Christopher's arms dropped from around her and he sighed, shaking his head gently. "Don't do this, Emma. Don't stand out here in the cold, hoping it will make you feel numb. It won't stop you from feeling."

Listening to Christopher's words, Emma nodded and started walking away from the edge of the dock, heading back towards the road. Each step she took made her feel farther and farther away from Will. He wasn't coming home. He was never coming home. She was never going to see him again, and she hadn't told him everything yet. She was never going to hug him again or hear him laugh and the realization of those facts made her start to cry harder as she walked home with her brother at her side.

Entering the Pillsbury house soaking wet, Emma marched straight up to her room, closing the door behind herself. She pulled off her cap, letting it fall to the floor, and then removed her gown and did the same, allowing it to fall to the floor. She looked down at her outfit underneath the gown. It, too, was soaking wet, but it was an army green dress that she purchased specifically for the first time she would see Will again. He'd never get to see her dress.

There was a knock on her door and she turned to see her brother stepping through. He held out a towel to her and smiled a little. "Em, I told Mom and Dad to just leave you be for a while. If you need anything, I'm across the hall."

Emma nodded and took the towel, watching Chris leave the room. She let the towel fall to the floor and moved to her bed, pulling out her shoebox and taking out Will's most recent letter. There it was, plain as day. _Emma, I'm finally coming home, and I'll be in time for your graduation._ Emma read the sentence over and over again, vocalizing it a few times, her heart breaking further with each syllable.

That night, Emma lay in bed, staring out of the dark window. Her arms were crossed over herself and she'd just finished crying for what felt like the millionth time that day. She'd eventually called and talked to Clarissa, apologizing for running out on her and asking if she was doing alright. She said that she was and she understood Emma's running away earlier. It wasn't a long phone conversation, but they'd agreed to go out on a walk at the park later that week. Not that it would matter. Will wouldn't be there.

As Emma stared out of the window, her mind went to the last time she and Will saw each other. She hadn't told Will exactly how much she loved him.

_Will let out a sigh and spoke the words they'd been dreading since they arrived at the pier. "Emma, I have to go." He spoke the words gently and regretfully, stroking her hair. She just nodded and stood, extending her hand to him, her mind racing frantically to figure out what to say to him before he left._

_He stood and held her face again, looking her in the eyes. "Emma, please stay safe and take care of yourself. You have two years left of high school. Keep doing what you're doing, okay? I want to come home to your graduation ceremony." He let out a small laugh and a smile. "I will write to you every day that I can." He leaned forward and kissed her again, lips lingering longer than necessary. She returned the kiss, swallowing when he pulled away. New tears were on her cheeks and she took a deep breath, willing herself to listen to him. "I promise, I will."_

_Her arms wrapped around him tightly and she buried her face in his neck. Will's arms wrapped around her waist and he held her close, memorizing the feel of her tiny frame against him and in his arms. Finally, he broke away and held her at arm's length._

_"I have to go."_

_With that, he bent over and picked up his duffel, slinging it over his shoulder. He began to walk away and Emma watched him, her world turning slightly colder as her best friend – boyfriend – got further from her. Was your heart supposed to break like this at only sixteen? When he was almost to the road, Emma took a few steps forward._

_"Will?"_

_He turned and looked at her and she bit her lip, finally deciding on what she'd say to him._

_"Yeah?"_

_"I…" She hesitated. "I love you."_

_He cracked a smile. "I love you, too, Emma."_

_"No," she said, shaking her head. "I_love_you."_

All of this time since he left, she'd been so focused on telling him in person that she never told him the full extent of her love for him. Why did she have to hold back? Why couldn't she just lay her heart completely on the line and tell him absolutely everything? She should have told him when she fell in love with him, and she should have told him why she loved him. 'I love you' that's all that she could muster? He may not have known, and the idea that he could die wondering how much Emma loved him made her sick to her stomach.

Sleep never came to Emma that night and when morning rolled around, she probably looked as awful as she felt. Sometime in the night she'd finally changed out of her stupid dress and into some pajamas. The dress now lay in a pile on the floor. She got up the moment she heard movement downstairs, changing into an outfit for the day quickly, and then heading down to make some breakfast. Rose was in the kitchen, already starting some eggs and bacon when Emma walked in, marching straight across to their coffee pot and starting the water.

"Emma, honey you look awful." Rose glanced at her daughter before going back to whisking up some eggs in a bowl.

"Well I feel awful. My best friend and fiancé were all wrapped up into one and he died, so I think that's how I'm supposed to look and feel."

"Well I told you that you shouldn't take what he said seriously."

Emma whipped around and looked at her mother, her jaw dropping in surprise.

"Are we really about to play the 'I told you so' game, Mother?"

"Yes, we are. I said you would get hurt, Emma. I said it over and over again and none of you would listen to me. So we will play the 'I told you so' game." Rose's head bobbed in one, final nod and she poured the eggs into the hot pan to start scrambling them up, "Do you want one egg or two, Emma?"

"I don't want anything. I hope you're happy that you're right because my heart is broken. I'm going to see Shannon, then Clarissa."

Emma turned on her heel and went to her room, throwing on a pair of sandals and grabbing her purse. She headed back downstairs and walked out of the front door into the bright morning, but she didn't see any colors. She only saw one big, wide world that she was now alone in.


	12. Please Teach Me Gently How To Breathe

**A/N: I know, I know! **Some of you - well probably most of you - aren't very happy with me at the moment! But I promise the ending of this story makes up for it. I tend to try and leave most of my angst in RP but it likes to creep into my regular writing sometimes.

"Please Teach Me Gently How To Breathe" from _Shelter_ by The xx

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Chapter 12: Please Teach Me Gently How to Breathe

The years seemed to pass quickly for Emma Pillsbury after high school graduation. A couple of weeks after finding out about Will's passing, there was a service held in his honor. Tons of kids from school were there, as well as members from the community who watched Will grow up in town. That summer was hard for Emma and Clarissa both. They didn't see each other much, except for on weekends, and they each went to visit Will's grave daily.

_Emma sat before Will's headstone, staring at his name and the dates. She didn't understand how someone so sweet and amazing could be taken from this world so quickly. More than that, she wondered how he could leave her alone; how he could leave Clarissa with nobody else._

_It had become a routine in the past few weeks for her to come visit Will's grave, but she usually just sat there, thinking; remembering. She knew that Clarissa tended to talk to Will when she came to see him, saying it helped a bit, so Emma decided she'd give it a try._

_Staring at the headstone, she cleared her throat and took a deep breath._

"_Hi, so I, uhm…this is weird. I don't know what to say exactly." She fell silent for a few minutes, tears starting to come to her eyes. Before she knew it, her thoughts came flowing out of her mouth. "I am so mad at you, Will. I know I shouldn't be, but I am. You left me, and I have never felt so alone before. You promised me – you do realize that, right? You _promised_ me that you would come home. So tell me why of all the promises you've made me, the promise to keep living is the one that got broken. Why – out of EVERYTHING you have done – why was staying alive the one thing that you just couldn't do? My God, Will. We were supposed to get married. I got into NYU for you. I pictured our future together, and I imagined kids and me being a counselor while you became the next Johnny Cash. None of that is going to happen, Will and I am so angry with you. I'm hurt and angry, and you're not even here to help try and fix that."_

_She spent the remainder of her time there, sitting on the ground and crying, angry with Will for leaving her and Clarissa, but also angry at herself for being so mad at Will._

After initially vocalizing her anger towards him, Emma was able to get some sort of closure and acceptance. She was able to somehow begin to accept the fact that the love of her life was gone and not coming back for her.

The hardest part of that summer was dealing with feelings of loneliness. She had Shannon still and Christopher, but neither of them was Will. Even when he was gone and fighting, Emma never felt completely alone because there was always his promise of returning to her. Once that promise was shattered and stripped away, there was no more feeling of some form of togetherness. The world just felt empty and she realized that it was due to the fact that Will was her Sun; her gravitational center. Now that she wasn't grounded, she didn't know what to do.

At the end of the summer, Emma moved to New York as planned and attended NYU for five years, studying counseling and theater arts. It was hard for her at first, knowing that she was going to school where Will should be attending as well, but she used that to motivate her. She studied hard and worked her way through school, determined to make Will proud of her. She graduated at the top of her class and returned to Lima with a degree in Counseling a minor in Musical Theater in the summer of 1966, just as she planned. Also long with her plan, she got a job by the age of twenty-four, working as a guidance counselor at her former high school, William McKinley High school.

She'd been working at the school for two years when her life started to feel a bit empty. It was three years earlier than her planned twenty-eight years old, but Emma wanted to start focusing on getting a house of her own, rather than an apartment. She wanted to have a relationship with someone and have children. The one big hiccup in that plan was that she only wanted to have a relationship with a man who was no longer alive, and she couldn't possibly imagine creating a child with anyone else. Ignoring those feelings, Emma threw herself back into her work, redoubling her efforts.

By the time Emma was twenty-eight years old, she'd completed the plan she made for herself at age fifteen to a t. She was very proud of herself, and she felt content enough to continue on with living just the way she was. No plan was needed for the next fifteen years in her mind. She had a plan: stay happy and keep working. In an attempt to stay happy, Emma rarely went to Will's grave anymore. She went on holidays and on each of their birthdays, as well as the anniversary of their last time they saw each other. Even then, that was almost too much for her to handle. Ten years had passed, but she still felt as raw as the day she heard he'd never come home again.

_Fall, 1971_

Emma stood, bundled in a sweater, looking down at Will's grave. It was crazy to think that if he were alive, he would have been thirty years old. Emma wondered where the time had gone and her heart broke for everything they should have had together in the past ten years. She sniffled slightly and wiped away a few tears, clearing her throat.

"Happy Birthday, honey. I love you."

A small smile spread across Emma's lips and she turned away from the grave, starting to walk back to the entrance to the cemetery and head back home. About halfway out of the gate, Emma heard a voice calling her name from behind her. Furrowing he eyebrows, Emma turned around and a tall man was walking towards her. He had deep brown eyes and deep brown hair as well. He looked so familiar, but Emma couldn't place him.

"Emma? Emma Pillsbury?" The man asked when he final approached her, running a hand through his hair. Emma nodded.

"Yeah, that's me." She took a few steps back, wondering who this man was and why he knew her name.

"Thank God. Emma, can we, uhm, can we talk? My name is Carl Howell. I was Will's–"

_Night was falling and Will still wasn't back from camp. Carl stayed in the bushes, wondering what the hell could be taking him so long to get back with their equipment. When darkness finally came, Carl packed up his things and started heading back to camp, planning on finding Will and reaming him for taking so long. _

_As he approached camp, he heard an explosion go off in the distance, and it wasn't until he got closer that he realized the explosion was at the very camp he was heading towards. He started walking faster towards the mess of rubble and people strewn around everywhere. Some places had caught fire from the explosion. Carl was stunned. All that time they were watching the enemy and somehow, they'd managed to slip past and destroy the camp that was planning on destroying them._

_Men were scattered around on the floor, some breathing, some dead. Some were dying and some were getting up and walking around in a daze, trying to comprehend what just happened. When Carl found Will, he was trapped under a pile of rubble and he appeared to have gotten a majority of the blast. He was bleeding out fast and Carl knew there was nothing he could do to stop what was inevitably going to happen. Will's eyes lit up with recognition upon seeing Carl approaching him and he let out a shallow breath, looking up at him._

"_Didn't…didn't mean to take….so long…" Will swallowed thickly and looked up at Carl. He knew he was going to die. He couldn't feel anything except wetness from his own blood beneath him. _

_Carl knelt beside Will and shook his head, "Nah, bro. It's fine. Hey, we're gonna get you out of here."_

"_No you're not."_

_Will looked at Carl and swallowed again, tears forming in his eyes. He pointed at Carl's breast pocket and took another gulp for air before letting out, "Emma."_

"_No, you're going to give this damn letter to Emma, Will. I'm not going to be the one to deliver that."_

_Will shook his head, closing his eyes. He could feel himself fading away. "Give it…to Emma. Go."_

_Carl looked down at Will and nodded, standing up and doing as his friend said. His eyes were closed and his breathing was so shallow, Carl wondered if he'd last another minute. Taking a breath, Carl adjusted his helmet and headed towards the next camp he knew of. He had a new determination to get home. It was no longer a question of whether or not he had anything to go home for. He had to go home because Will couldn't. He had to deliver his damn letter._

Emma held up a hand to silence him, her eyes growing wide and her mouth gaping open slightly. She didn't need an explanation. She remembered the name from reading Will's letters over and over again in the past ten years.

"Yeah, I, uhm, I know who you are," she glanced down at her watch. It was getting on towards dinner time and she needed to get home, but she wanted to see what Carl had to say. "Sure. Uhm, yeah..." She led Carl over to a bench underneath a tree and sat, gesturing for him to sit next to her as well.

The pair sat in awkward silence for a while, neither of them really knowing what to say. Carl kept wondering what to say to the fiancée of your war buddy who died, and Emma kept wondering what you say to the man who was probably the last person to see your dead fiancé alive.

"I guess you're wondering why I'm here?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, that's sort of the idea. It's been ten years and then you just show up out of the blue. I've wondered a lot over the past decade what would happen if I ever met you, and now I honestly have no idea what to say."

"I'm really sorry about that. At first, they kept telling me you were at school in New York, and after that I got distracted with my own life. But, I'm here because I feel like you should know that Will really loved you. The whole time we were together he wouldn't stop talking about you, especially at night after it got dark and I think he felt lonely."

Emma listened as he spoke and took a deep breath, nodding at his words. She felt tears prick her eyes and she looked down at the ground.

"Well thank you for that. I, uhm, it's been ten years, though. I've figured by now that he cared."

Carl nodded once. "Look, I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, dirty sheet of paper. It looked worn as if it hadn't ever left Carl's pocket and Emma raised an eyebrow. "Will asked me to give this to you."

He held out the letter to Emma and she took it from him gently, watching as he stood. She didn't know what to say, only able to look at the letter in her hand. Did she want to read what it said? Could she handle that? What would it say? Carl was already a few feet away when he turned around and smiled at Emma.

"Still work at the café?"

"No," Emma shook her head, looking a bit perplexed, "I don't."

"Too bad. You make a damn good pie." He smiled and turned, walking a ways down the road, then getting into his car and driving away, leaving Emma sitting under a tree, holding the weight of the world in her hand.

-x-

"Daddy?"

Emma walked through the front door of her parents' house, closing it behind herself. She removed her coat and placed it on the couch, heading towards the kitchen, hearing her father calling "In here, Emma!"

Still clutching the letter in her hand, Emma walked into the kitchen and smiled at her parents, brother and nieces. She kissed each of their cheeks, pocketing Will's letter and moving to pick up her twin nieces from their spot at the table. "Hello beautiful girls!" She gave them each a careful squeeze and placed them back down.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to stop by the cemetery." She turned towards her parents and both of them nodded in understanding.

"Did you go see Uncle Will?" When her nieces were born, Christopher took it upon himself to tell the girls about their 'brave Uncle Will' and all the super brave things he did. Emma didn't agree with it at first, but it ended up sticking, so she just went along with it.

"I did, baby girl. Today's his birthday," Emma smiled and turned to her father. "Dad, I need to talk to you. It's really important and it can't wait until after dinner."

Looking concerned, Rusty nodded and led Emma into his den, closing the door behind them. "What's up, sweetie?"

"Dad, I got a letter from Will," Emma said, looking at him. She pulled it out of her pocket and swallowed. "What do I do?"

"Well what does it say?"

Emma shook her head.

"I don't know. I haven't read it yet. I was at the cemetery and a man approached me. It was Will's buddy, Carl, and he told me Will loved me, handed me the letter and left…I'm scared."

"There's no reason to be afraid, Emma."

"What if it's something bad? Or what if it's something really, really good? How do I know if I can handle that?"

"You can't know. But you know what? That," he said, pointing at the letter, "is the last thing you will ever hear from him. Are you sure you want to leave it unread?" Rusty looked at Emma very seriously. He knew his daughter. She wanted to read it, but she just needed a small push.

Emma nodded after thinking his words over, "I want to read it."

"Then read it. Take your time, Emma. This is a big thing. I know it's been ten years, but you can do this. I'll leave you to it. Take your time and I'll make sure Amy and Anna leave you alone until you're ready."

"Thanks, Dad."

Emma walked over and kissed his cheek before he left. She closed the door behind him and sat down on the couch in the den. She felt like she was eighteen again. Last time, she was holding a letter in which he proposed to her. This time, she had no idea what she was holding, but she knew it had to be important.

"Alright, Will. I hope this is good. I love you."

She stared at the letter for a moment before opening it up, her eyes taking in the date and his handwriting. That in itself was enough to make her heart momentarily stop. Swallowing, she began reading the letter. One paragraph in, she was already crying, finding it hard to breathe. By the end of the letter, she was huddled up in the corner of the couch, crying as she read through his words. Her heart was aching and she felt a yearning for Will stronger than she'd ever experienced in her life. Through the tears and the ache in her chest, Emma struggled to keep a grip on herself, but she wasn't breaking. If anything the letter was fixing her; making her less broken after ten years. She loved him and she finally forgave him for leaving her. Even when he was gone, Will knew just how to fix her.


	13. Looking Back Without You

**A/N: **And I bring you the final chapter of _My Traveling Soldier_. R&R welcomed as always and thank you guys for keeping interest in this story. It's been really fun (and sad and tearful) for me to write! If you have any suggestions for my next fic, find me on twitter! **gingaloid ** -Tayma

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_August 25, 1960_

_My Angel,_

_Hello, beautiful. If you're reading this, then one of two things has happened. Either the unthinkable has happened, and I've died or I'm sitting next to my beautiful wife as she reads this letter, telling her not to cry because I'm here and everything is okay. I really hope it's the second one._

_Emma, I'm writing you this letter because I almost died today. I already told you in the letter I wrote just before this everything that happened. I also asked you to marry me. Now, I have no idea what your answer is going to be, but I really hope it's a yes. I'm going to imagine that it's a yes, because I don't think I could take you rejecting me like that. It was a big thing for me to ask you and I've always guarded myself around you, Em, but I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend that I don't love you so much it hurts my chest and makes it to where I can't breathe when I see or think of you._

_If you're reading this letter and the unthinkable has happened, Emma I'm so sorry. I promised you that I would be home and I promised you that I would take care of you. I've never broken a promise to you, no matter how big or how small. I'm praying as I write this that you're not reading this after I've broken the biggest and possibly most important promise that I've ever made to you. If this is the case, I hope you don't hate me, though I know that you may be angry with me, and you may be hurting, please don't hate me. The very idea that you could ever feel anything but love towards me hurts._

_Now I'm sure that you're wondering why exactly I am writing you this letter, seeing as I've already written you a letter explaining my near-death experience and it's very possible that I am sitting next to you at this very moment. I'd have my arm around you and my chin resting on your shoulder. Maybe we're sitting on our bed or in the living room on the couch. I could tell you all of this myself, but by the time I get there and see you, I may forget everything that I am thinking upon the sight of your face after so long. I need to write it down and give this to you, so that no matter what, you know of my love. You have handwritten, tangible proof of everything that you mean to me._

_So why am I writing you this letter? Emma, I think that I'm going to die before I can get home._

_The whole time that I have been here, I have had a positive attitude. There was never a question in my mind that I was going to go home to you, no matter how many close calls there were. No matter how many times I was told that I am either going to go crazy or die out there or both, I've always ignored them because I promised you I would be home. I promised and you know I never take back a promise that I make you, Emma. But after the other night – after being mere inches from death – I am not so sure I can keep that promise to you and it breaks my heart that I may be breaking yours._

_I'm afraid, Emma. I really wish that I wasn't. I wish that I was brave, but I'm not. I know I've tried so hard to put on a brave face in every letter that I've sent you. I've tried to be strong for you, but I'm breaking, Emma. I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy. I miss you so much and I just don't think I can keep pretending that I am not going to die. Because I may die, and I've spent so much time acting like I won't, but after the other night I can't pretend anymore. So again, I'm really, really praying that I'm sitting next to you at the moment you're reading this, but just in case I'm not, I need to tell you some things._

_Do you remember when you were eleven years old and you had the worst case of the chicken pox? You couldn't go anywhere or see anyone. Even Chris wouldn't go near you because he hadn't had them yet. I had, though, and I sat in your room with you every day for two weeks, making sure you didn't scratch yourself and scar up your beautiful skin. Now, I was only thirteen, and hanging out with a girl for two weeks in the summer rather than playing with my other buddies got me a ton of teasing, and you were referred to as my 'girlfriend' the whole first year of middle school by the other boys. To be honest, Em, I had no idea what exactly boyfriend and girlfriend meant. In my mind at the time it meant that you'd grow up, get married, and have kids together. My Mom was my Dad's girlfriend before they got married, so I just figured they went hand in hand together. The fact that you were being called my girlfriend was appealing; the thought that you and I could end up married one day and having kids even to my thirteen year old mind was a beautiful picture of the future. I'm pretty sure that's the moment that I knew I loved you, when I realized it made me look forward to growing up if it meant that you and I would end up like my parents. _

_I don't think I knew that I was actually __**in**__ love with you until the year you and I started dating. Which would have been your sophomore year, my senior year. 1959. We were sitting in my backyard on the porch swing, each of us had a cup of cocoa in our hands and you were bundled up from head to toe, protecting yourself from the cold. Your cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. It was late January, and I turned to look at you, took a deep breath, and announced that I was going to ask Terri Del Monaco to the Valentine's Day dance. I watched you and your face immediately changed and you looked away from me, staring out over the grass. 'I – uhm, that's…okay.' That was your response and I remember having to try not to laugh because I was never going to ask Terri to that dance. I only wanted to go with you, but I wasn't completely sure of your feelings. I could tell that something was on your mind, so I asked you what you were thinking and you looked at me and said, 'Honestly, it would hurt me to see you there with her, but if that's what you want, I won't stop you.' You stood and set your mug on the railing of the porch, then marched down the steps, out into my backyard, heading towards the back gate to go home, and I followed you, asking you why it would hurt. I'll never forget you turning to look at me, your hair whipping around your face like fire and the stare you gave me before yelling at me, 'God, Will, are you that blind? I like you, okay? So there. You know. Now go ask Terri.' Then I kissed you. Emma, you and I always had our guards up around each other for so long. You putting your guard down like that – even in an insulting manner – just solidified my love for you. I've been in love with you for so long, but only acknowledged it months before I had to leave. I realized it too late. _

_I love everything about you, Emma. I love the way you can't see how beautiful you actually are. I love your OCD habits. I know that you hate them, but they are so perfect and they are so uniquely you. I've watched you sit at the sink and scrub an apple for twenty minutes before finally eating it and I wouldn't take you any other way. I love that the smallest things make you smile, and the way you are convinced that you can predict the rain. I love that you look at the rain and see a new beginning. "The world is being washed clean so it can start over" you always say. I'm beginning to understand that now. I love how you love everyone so completely and treat them all with love and kindness, no matter how cruel and spiteful they may be towards you. Your purity and your compassion make you so beautiful and amazing. You never believe me when I tell you, but I am the lucky one in this friendship. To think it all started with me calling you weird because you would rather read than play Jesse James and Annie Oakley with me and the other boys. Sitting with you at recess when I was nine years old was the best decision I have ever made in my life._

_Being in a war, it's crazy the sort of things your mind starts to picture to protect yourself from what you're actually seeing and doing. The more I tried to focus on anything but what was going on here, Emma, the more I imagined our future together. If you say yes to marrying me, I am going to make you the most loved and cherished woman on this planet. You are never going to doubt your worth, and I am going to spend every day that I am yours making you feel appreciated. I've imagined our kids, too, and they're perfect. They all look like you with your big, beautiful eyes and your beautiful ginger hair. The only resemblance to me is their curly hair. I wouldn't have it any other way. I know your OCD makes it difficult to handle messes, Emma, so I don't picture us having any pets other than a fish, but if you want more, we can get more. I don't care as long as I have you. _

_I…I want to give you the world. That is what I want for you, and I just don't know if I can absolutely do that. I'm terrified that I am going to leave you alone in this world, and I don't want to make all of these promises to you anymore when I don't know that I can keep them. Dying doesn't even scare me, Emma. It doesn't scare me at all to be taken from this world. What scares me is leaving you; being taken from you. That is what scares me the most. The feeling that after I die, you won't be by my side, and I won't be here to protect you anymore like I've been doing for the past eleven years of our lives, Emma. But I am not afraid of dying for me. Even though we didn't get to share our love in the open for very long in person, your letters and your dedication to me while I've gone through this is more than enough love. The kind of love that we have doesn't disappear because one of us isn't there. It's been eleven years in the making and it can only grow stronger from here. I know that even though we're young and still growing, our love is real. It's what has kept me going this entire time. If I die, it won't have been because I didn't fight, because I fought for everything we deserve to have together. I fought for you._

_Are you lonely? Are you okay? Am I sitting next to you right now? I hope to God that I am, Emma. I know I keep repeating myself, but I don't know how else to get it into your head and your heart that I am sorry if I am not there. I am sorry that I broke my promise to you. I am so sorry. _

_If I am not there, please don't cry for me. I don't want you to be sad, Emma, and I don't want you to be hurting. I want you to be happy. I want you to live every day in celebration of our friendship and live every day remembering the love that we've shared for eleven years. Though it was secret and kept quiet and only to ourselves, I feel like on some level, each of us knew of the other's feelings. We just didn't have the words or the way to tell each other what we were thinking and feeling. I don't want you to be sad that I am gone, Emma, because I'm not gone. I am always by your side, and as long as you love me, you carry me with you in your heart everywhere you go._

_Just know that no matter what, I'm always watching over you. Whether you can see me or not, I am always taking care of you and I am always by your side. Please, please, please remember that. _

_Emma, always remember that I love you so much. It breaks my heart each moment that I am away from you and it only breaks further from the weight of the love I carry for you. You are my light. You are the reason I am fighting to come home. You are the reason I get up in the mornings, and you are the last thing I think about every night before I go to bed. You are my best friend. You are my world. You are everything to me, Emma, and I truly hope that you know that. If you ever doubt that, I want you to read this and remember that I am yours completely and forever._

_I love you with my whole entire heart, Emma, my beautiful, sweet girl._

_Love forever and for always,_

_Your Traveling Soldier, Will._


End file.
